He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. I was in Lancashire, at our family seat, at the time you mention. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. The guineas are not for serving your mistress. ” “As one friend to another. ’ ‘Gosse,’ corrected Lucilla. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield. He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt.
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