I will marry you when Sir John gets his divorce, and I will do all I can to keep you out of harm. “You will be so late. ” “And I have been dreaming and thinking—” “I am frightfully sorry. Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him. Hold your hand for a moment. What CAN she put before that?” His voice began to rise. I'll tell you something. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel.
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