“No doubt the war has robbed you of many things, my lord. As it has me.” Her gaze slid to his leg, the walking stick upon which he leaned, the edge of his jaw, where a thin, white scar crawled like a worm. “But despite the depths to which I may have fallen, I have managed to retain my manners.”
He deserved nothing less than such a chiding, but he heard only half her rebuke.
“What depths?” he demanded, stepping forward and seizing her chin in his hand.