“That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. “I suppose I should let go if I had. Monroe would lock the whole group of us in the basement, every day. I do not wish to seek them out, en effet. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. She mentally reprimanded herself to alter her own visage so as not to appear depraved. The boat in which he rode was not overset. My letters are returned unopened, her maid will not even allow me across the doorstep. Look at these walls. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion.
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