There had even occasionally been something within the eyes of a few of the gentlemen to whom she had been introduced. Some emotion she had noticed and had not understood. They had all been her father's age or older—like this man, who stood with his back to her, thin shoulders squared, his head held erect.
As a soldier's daughter, she should have recognized the stance, but Annie had never in her life been exposed to anything dealing with the army. Or with her father's reputation within its ranks.
"Miss Darlington is now the ward of Ian Sinclair, General Mayfield. Perhaps you didn't know."
The calm, familiar voice pulled her back to the present. Doyle Travener was standing before the old man who had deliberately turned his back to her.
