The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. “Sir John is not at all that sort. She sensed his acute frustration as he unzipped her raincoat while trying to kiss her. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. I was extremely subtle—in fact, as devious as Melusine. "The feeling is dead within my breast. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms.
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