He was only too eager to reduce each tender moment they’d shared to pound notes and cold shillings. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, could not comprehend the sheer audacity of the man. She circled him, her eyes wide, her mouth a circle of shock. “I could be generous and throw in a few extra pounds for the first time. Should we make this per night or per event? No doubt you’ll expect me to pay you back wages.” He gave a beleaguered sigh. Just how much do you think you’re worth per night, my dear?” “There might even be a hastier way of paying me off. “We musn’t forget your other skills-bookkeeping, embroidery, dusting.” He arched one eyebrow in a diabolical leer. “In three years, you’ll be free and clear of me. “Mathematics always suited me better than spelling.” He scribbled on the back of the pardon, then held it up, grinning cheerfully. He pulled out an ink and quill and carried them to the windowsill. Her knees trembled with relief as he strode around her to the trunk.
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