Jack was a comical scoundrel, and made a little too free with his grace's best burgundy, as well as his grace's favourite housekeeper. Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women. Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. “Well, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully.
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