The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. He did not know—and probably never would unless she told him—that it was very easy (and comfortable for a woman) to fall into slatternly ways in this latitude. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment. “I have come to tell you this. But I have powerful friends. Seeing the footman about to follow her in, Gerald clamped a hand onto his shoulder.
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