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To London, to London — Jane Hinchman
SHE THOUGHT LOVE WAS A FOOLISH, IRRATIONAL EMOTION -- AND SHE WOULD NEVER SUCCUMB!
A weaker woman might have shed a tear at the memory of waiting for a man who never came back, not Miss Dillon Hearn. In the ten years since Charles broke her heart, she had steeled herself firmly against love. She was, in fact, the ideal chaperone for her lovely niece, Caroline, as they sailed the Atlantic for a visit to London.
That was where the trouble began. For it seems Lord Roxbury; ever so smitten by lovely Caro, was none other than Charles Norton himself! He was older certainly, more cynical, no doubt. But it was Charles!
Well, she would make sure that he broke no hearts on this trip! But whose heart was she bound to save? Caroline's...or her own?
A weaker woman might have shed a tear at the memory of waiting for a man who never came back, not Miss Dillon Hearn. In the ten years since Charles broke her heart, she had steeled herself firmly against love. She was, in fact, the ideal chaperone for her lovely niece, Caroline, as they sailed the Atlantic for a visit to London.
That was where the trouble began. For it seems Lord Roxbury; ever so smitten by lovely Caro, was none other than Charles Norton himself! He was older certainly, more cynical, no doubt. But it was Charles!
Well, she would make sure that he broke no hearts on this trip! But whose heart was she bound to save? Caroline's...or her own?
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