She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. It was a clear, lovely, October morning. ‘You think so? Well, if that’s so, I know where she gets her impudence, Prudence Sindlesham. ‘That is not your affair. Her hair had begun to grow back, it now swept to her shoulders. Yeah, I’m thirty-seven. The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. You are more in my power than I am in yours. ’ ‘Good. We aren’t worth it. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. Egad! I shall make a good thing of it. Gerald’s temper flared. He initiated sex with her, lightly fingering her clitoris as an invitation.
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