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. Though within the last two days he had committed several heinous offences, and one of a darker dye than any with which the reader has been made acquainted, his breast was not yet so callous as to be wholly insensible to the stings of conscience. Of a certainty, she also was imbecile. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. The stranger turned his head at the sound. She would just walk out of the house and go. " The prison bars of circumstance, they no longer encompassed her. ‘Parbleu, that pig, he will ruin all. Traversing what remained of Wych Street at a rapid pace, and speeding along Drury Lane, the trio soon found themselves in Kendrick Yard. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. “Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up.
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