” Lucy gestured to the rough plywood floor. I am glad you found me. We were to ransom you, then we would fake your death, play as if the kidnappers had executed you. “Sure. His pride, however, would not suffer him to interfere with their proceedings; much less could he bring himself to acknowledge that he had been in the wrong, and entreat Lady Trafford to remain, though he was well aware that her life might be endangered if she travelled by night. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours.
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