’ You were to be kidnapped from the Manor in early July, but you took matters into your own hands in March. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. She refused to eat. He feared to antagonize that distinguished person. He forced her arm back, away, stretching it out to keep the weapon at bay. Be kind to her. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. It ought not to be much. Her cheeks seemed to burn, her veins ran riot, and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he must feel it through his scarlet coat.
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