“Beneath the scent of lavender that permeated the bedding, the stench of aged wood and paint bloomed, like mildew flourishing in the dark. But stronger yet, the scent of sleep-warmed feminine flesh. He couldn’t see her, but her large blue eyes and sweet, round face, and masses of golden, loosely curling, shoulder-length hair that fell from its pins as she had bent over him were burned into his mind. Nothing else resided in his memory. Just the girl. He didn’t know how he’d come to be here or wha...t he was doing here. Something lingered around the periphery of his thoughts, wispy, like cobwebs. He couldn’t pull it up clearly enough to grasp it. Had he possibly drunk too much? He searched for his last clear recollection. He had been in his chambers at the Inns of Court. Since the open of Parliament, he’d been driving himself, trying to get enough promises for votes. Weeks where he was never without some pamphlet in his hand, frantically reading, while riding to a string of endless meetings and dinner parties.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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