He could not possibly lunge in the confined space, and so had nothing to do but back himself into the chapel as fast as he could. Her heels made contact with Rhea’s knees and hobbled her with a crack. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. The news that his granddaughter desired an audience Lord Charvill had greeted with merely a grunt, which turned into a roar as his gorge rose when he heard that she was accompanied by her husband. It’s—Mrs. ” He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, listening to his retreating footsteps. John knew better.
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