All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Melusine feigned a displeased frown. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. A moistened velvet touch found her tongue. Jonathan shook his head. “Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months.
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