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That should have been a comforting thought, but Joanna found it strangely distasteful. She turned uneasily, and the movement released another gust of scent from the portion of the sheets her body had warmed. The bench beneath the trellised roses came back to her mind. She wondered why betrothal had been chosen above marriage. I could write and ask, she thought. I could even ask for permission to marry. No, I cannot, Joanna corrected herself sharply. Mama and Ian would agree to itor, at least, Ian would. He always gave Joanna anything she asked for, and he would make Alinor agree, even if it would be a bad thing for them. I must be patient, Joanna thought, sighing. I must endure. |
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