. Such pretty manners, she thought. Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it. ‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion. But ship that girl east as soon as you can. “Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued. She was shifting, moving back. ‘Come, cry a truce.
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