‘I kissed you once, didn’t I?’ Her pulses jumped and she stared. " "No, Sir Rowland. ’ She was backing across the room, moving towards the screen. Sebastian crouched on the floor with a single dead victim, a young highwayman. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. He savored the last solo, the coda.
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