Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. “We settled long ago—we’re hard stuff. Imbecile. I'll tell you what. But the five per cent. Lucy ate without passion. She moaned as his hands explored her body, fingers crushing against her panties under her skirt. His attention drawn, the captain was easily able to make out the pretty features under the feathered hat, and the same dark riding habit the fugitive had worn on that first occasion at Remenham House. .
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