Nowhere could he see that reaching, menacing Hand. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. ‘I trust you were not altogether disgusted when I kissed you.
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