I might forgive him that, for he obviously taught her a good deal that she has found useful. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. She found herself looking sheepishly around the bedroom when a sudden tingle of electricity moved from her groin, fanning out from her belly. Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. Marina had retired to bed, drinking wine slowly, sleeping when she was not drinking. Filled as he was with conflicting emotions, any stretch of silence would be dangerous. She did not want to seem to shrink from conversation, but all sorts of odd questions were running through her mind. You see, I—I am a woman worshipper. ’ Then she whisked from the room, hearing Lucilla utter a delighted squeal as she closed the door behind her.
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