She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. A pair of long-lashed blue eyes studied them both as she slowly brought her hands down to rest by her sides. ‘And why not?’ ‘Because,’ Gerald said matter of factly, ‘convent-bred jeune demoiselles do not commonly know how to handle either pistols or daggers. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears.
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