’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. You’ll end up dead, that’s what. It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?” Anna nodded. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than let it speak her mother's infamy. “I am not sure,” Anna answered. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. ’ ‘He did, you know,’ grinned Gerald.
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