’ ‘Of what use to be ladylike when I cannot be a lady?’ ‘None of that. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. She shuddered as his naked body pressed against her. She had underestimated his animal ability to sense weakness. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. Besides—there is Sir John.
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