Lucilla clearly adored her betrothed, anyone could see that. It was her foster brother Mike, on his way to the bathroom. Wild horses wouldn’t drag it out of me, even I knew anything, which I don’t. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. But he told me this much, that no matter how far Mr. ’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk.
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