. Lord, but it was a nun! Just as he had suspected. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. Cathy threw Mike a look. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. The whole place had come to life, the magic seeped out of the walls. “What do you mean, Annabel? You only knew Mr.
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