" "It matters not. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. " Jack, meanwhile, was carried to Newgate. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. ‘Sir?’ Hilary threw a brief glance at Trodger, and quickly returned his intent gaze to the Frenchman, who had halted once more, and stood as if thinking deeply. " On quitting the Lodge, Wild repaired to his own habitation. “No I’m not, John.
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