Vanessa Kelly

Papa had always told Justine that guns had a remarkable capacity to focus the mind. She couldn__ say with any confidence that her actions had cleared the minds of the drunken louts before her, but she__ sharpened their attention. They gaped at her, slack-mouth and stupefied, trying to make sense of what their bleary eyes told them.

Linnet__ thudding heart raced blood through her veins, sending a flush of embarrassing heat to her face. She had been avoiding him, but she could never tell him why. It took all her discipline not to quail under Sir Anthony__ penetrating gaze. Blast the man. She__ lost count of the times he__ made her feel like a blushing maiden. Strictly speaking, she was still a maiden, but she__ given up blushing years ago__long with simpering, flirting, and so many other talents deemed useful to unmarried women. Except, of course, in Sir Anthony__ august presence.