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320 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 2014
["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>"I'm sorry." The words were soft, muttered into his shirt, either weakly or reluctantly.
"So you should be, Markham. Very sorry, indeed." He had reached the stairs, he was climbing them, he was cradling her against his chest. She smelled of some sort of feminine soap, floral, quite unlike her, but pleasant nonetheless. "You are a very great deal of trouble to me, you know. You always have been."
She sighed, and the warmth of her breath penetrated his skin and smothered his chest. "I have... always... endeavored... to give satisfaction."
"You are not required to give satisfaction, Markham." There was her door, white and quite at the end of the hall. The northeast corner, overlooking the lake and the sunrise. It had been his own room, after he left the nursery upstairs, before his father had died. "You are only required to recover your strength without doing yourself further injury. Is that so very much to ask?"
"No. It is just so...bloody boring."
God, she would kill him.
