It was in fact the first embrace of motherhood she had ever known. Michelle looked her up and down, liking the results of her efforts. "You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. “I do,” Anna answered. “My father’s sisters used once to live in the old manor house. On the way, he hired a chair with a couple of stout porters, and ordered them to follow him. Accordingly, he stopped the coach, dismounted, and hastened towards the assemblage, which, he was glad to find, consisted chiefly of a posse of watchmen and other guardians of the night. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. .
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