. " "You flatter me," smiled Sir James. The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour. But he was not a father one could make much of. He stared at her breasts while he touched them. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. And now let's go back to the Shovels, and finish our brandewyn and bier, Muntmeester. This fruit was McClintock's particular pride.
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