She felt his erection against her naked thigh. "I'll pledge you in that toast with all my heart. “Please let me drive you home. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. William Kneebone was a woollen-draper of "credit and renown," whose place of business was held at the sign of the Angel (for, in those days, every shop had its sign), opposite Saint Clement's church in the Strand. And, for a man who'll never see sixty again, he's in excellent preservation, I assure you.
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