On a cold January day Lady Byron walked out of the front door of 13 Piccadilly Terrace for the last time…
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Between Two Worlds?
As a child I loved to shock others with the tale that I had been abandoned at birth by gypsies and raised en famille with kindly mice in the crypt of an old church.
Alas! The truth is altogether more unremarkable!
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A Stroll Along Piccadilly? Oh! The Agony!
One quiet and chilly afternoon – I went for a stroll along Piccadilly to take a lingering look at the abode which was the scene of Lord Byron’s short and difficult union.
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Home With Byron? 