She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. She cursed herself for a fool. ‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye. Where is your hat?’ ‘Parbleu, is this a way to rescue me?’ Melusine demanded, digging in her heels and wrenching her arm out of his hold. Clarice loved babies as much as Lucia did and chattered about them day and night.
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