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Later, he asked, "Who was the man who brought you to the ball?"

"The boy who worked in our garden, who drove our coach," she answered.

"Did you sleep with him?" he asked.

She remembered the day in the garden, remembered his advances, remembered her hand holding his off, remembered reminding him that all her wealth was that box. She reddened. "No."

His tone was sharper than any she had heard before. "Forget him. I forbid* you to think about him."


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