Christina Brooke

Good night, my lord._ The words were pronounced in her most withering tone.By contrast, he remained quite alarmingly unwithered long after she left.

Keep your hands off me._ She spoke viciously, through her teeth, and he caught a glimpse of her deVere ancestry. She was a virago in tiny, fragile, fairy form.

She narrowed her gaze. __ don__ trust you to keep your eyes closed.___mart woman,_ he said. __ wouldn__ trust me, either, if I were you.

A gentleman can__ let a lady sleep in an armchair while he takes his ease in a bed.___ut you are not a gentleman,_ she pointed out. __ou are the greatest scoundrel in all the land.__e tilted his head to consider that. __ll right. You take the chair.

I only hope I may not be ruined,_ she was saying miserably. __ should be obliged to marry you after all, and then I__ likely murder you before the wedding breakfast was over.