She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. But it's confounded inconvenient. Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples.
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