"Well, gentlemen," rejoined Wood, mildly; "since Mr. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. “You must pack for me. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. She calmed herself, breathing deeply. She spent many days in the castle alone as he busied himself with his alchemy, or traveled to Florence to visit his remaining political connections. “What have you done to yourself?” he muttered. “Your sister’s future is at stake. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. "Mr. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than let it speak her mother's infamy. And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. Shame and electricity coursed through her veins, flowing directly from him in a flash flood.
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