270 “Curse that boy!” He chuckled and stomped the water. To this day he and every one else thinks that he married Anna. His grey eyes burned under his shaggy eyebrows. He pushed her back forcefully into her seat with his lips, his body automatically responding to her kiss. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. ’ ‘I am relieved to hear it. I do not think that you will dare to marry anybody else. The palanquin is hired and so is the procession. ‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla. “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation.
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