Sebastian’s land holdings were enormous, reaching across the Alps. The man was my husband. I have made up my mind to insist upon moving from here into Park Lane, or one of the Squares. “May I be allowed to say,” he declared, “that I came here with the same intention. It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood.
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