She picked up the hand cannon. Sheppard, and neither deserve nor desire your thanks. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. ‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. . The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. ” She spat in his face. To perdition with them all.
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