That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. She set her fingers in the hair and tugged, drawing him to a sitting posture and stooping so that her eyes would be on the level with his when he awoke. If you recall, Gianfrancesco’s second cousin had been ransomed by a family they had feuded with for hundreds of years. She had expected a love story; and love was totally absent.
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