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472 pages, Hardcover
First published December 8, 1999


"I look like a bloody lord, don't I?"
Edwina cleared her throat. Well. Yes. And here stood another unwelcome bit of truth. The handsomest bloody lord she had ever seen was a ratcatcher wearing her father's outdated trousers, shirt, and vest, and wandering her house in the middle of the night.
His word seemed friendlier. A fond name. Were men fond of that part of themselves? It was certainly not the best part of statues; she made a point not to look there. And it changed, it grew. She'd read that astounding piece of information in a book. That was the worst part, the horror—or it had been the worst until this very moment, when it occurred to her that, goodness, a man might have hair there, too. She did. Oh, something that grew larger, up and out of a tangle of hair. How disgusting.
”She could feel her heart thudding. How long had it been pounding like this? Was it healthy for it to pump at such a rate for so long a time as it seemed?”
“Miss Bolash, life be rich. Why don't you bite yourself off a piece?”

