She wondered wildly why she had stood up. ‘But this Englishwoman,’ asked the man Valade, his puzzlement plain to see, ‘who was she?’ The question irritated Charvill. Sir John hesitated. She felt much better. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. “I murdered them, John. “So, how’d it go?” Lucy sighed. The rich, heavy food sat in her stomach like so many soft pebbles.
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