he could hardly recall why he’d agreed to come. gazing out at the crowded party from his solitary vantage point in the corner, ross thought for the hundredth time that evening how little he cared for philadelphia. hot, crowded, and full of people who – quite rightly, he had come to feel – did not want them there. he longed for the sea air of cornwall. or, barring that, the open forests of virginia. anywhere but a damned stuffy drawing room full of people he liked but little and respected still less. but his colonel had demanded he make an appearance. ross was not yet certain if the order came from a desire to reward him for good service or simply to keep him out of mischief. perhaps both.
it was only as he reached for his second glass of wine that he realized he was not wholly alone in his secluded corner. he blinked in surprise. the face was familiar, the name still moreso. the widow of an american general – a captive turned wife of a staunch and respected loyalist. she’d been the talk of the barracks. “ lady grey, ” he said, surprise evident in his voice. he wondered if she also found the company tiresome. “ forgive me. i had no intention of intruding upon your solitude… captain ross poldark, ma’am. of the sixty-second foot. ” // @estrangere liked for ross poldark!
