And in the vestry was the sword of monsieur le major. ‘Mary was indeed naïve, but there I should say the similarity ends. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. In an instant, she turned on him. Her family had hosted a feast in his honor for which they had taken weeks to prepare: with braised capons and lobster sausages and all sorts of delicious spiced stews her mother had made from secret recipes.
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