Courtlaw sat with folded arms. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. This also struck her as odd. “Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone. Just as he was preparing to follow, the wherry containing Rowland and his men, which had drifted in their wake, was dashed against his boat.
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