“Well, I don’t think you told him as much as that, did you?” Lady Lescelles asked. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. " Trenchard, meanwhile, whose gaze was fixed upon the boy, became livid as death, but he moved not a muscle. ” “Try what?” She asked, coolly assessing his lithe hips.
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