It was his heart. ‘And since the entire company and Pottiswick himself were unable to find hide nor hair of the infernal French female—’ ‘English, Hilary,’ Gerald reminded him. ’ He thought a wary look came into her face, but it was difficult to be sure. It was obviously pitched well, hitting her head at a good thirtyfive miles per hour. Had he come to see her to find if she needed something? No.
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