Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. ‘And what the devil do you mean by demanding that I wait on you here? D’you think I haven’t enough to do handling that caper-witted female’s affairs, without dancing attendance on you?’ ‘Don’t be cross,’ begged Lucilla, much to Melusine’s disgust. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. “I am bored,” she said abruptly.
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