“And if she can’t have the right one? “We’ve developed such a quality of preference!” She rubbed her knuckles into her forehead. Tell me why you ran away from the convent. 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. He staggered back a few paces; and, before he could recover himself, Thames tripped up his heels, and, placing the point of the spike at his throat, threatened to stab him if he attempted to stir, or cry out. She was particularly charmed by his theory of friendship. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. Let me take the satchel, sir. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned.
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