Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. ‘Do you tell me that my disreputable son had the infernal insolence to pass you off as that whoring Frenchwoman’s daughter?’ His answer was in their faces. Emile looked at her, then down, and clearly caught the bright gleam on the floor. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield.
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