ToC In an incredibly short space of time,—for her anxiety lent wings to her feet,— Mrs. Curses light on the horse!" he added, seizing the bridle of his steed, who continued snorting and shivering, as if still under the influence of some unaccountable alarm; "what can ail him?" "I know what ails him, your honour," rejoined the groom, riding up as he spoke; "he's seen somethin' not o' this world. 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. “We have no airs and graces here, and my hat hangs from a peg in the passage. Besides this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails.
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