THE VISCOUNT FROM AMERICA
Anne gasped. The stranger's sunstreaked hair was much too long to be fashionable. His buckskin breeches seemed woefully out of place in a London drawing room.
Anne's heart began inexplicably to pound, as she asked: "You are the new Viscount Mainwaring?"
The stranger broke into a laugh that seemed to shake the walls.
"I reckon so, Ma'am. I reckon so..."