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For one instant, Geoffrey had a wild desire to push Joanna away, to shout that he was not willing, to ride back to Salisbury and tell his father the agreement must be withdrawn, that he could not bear to be married to Joanna. How could he endure to look upon that perfection, kiss it, caress it, bed it, as aa what? A suitable stallion for breeding young? A suitable substitute war leader? A suitable political pawn? The memory of endless kindness, enormous obligation checked the impulse. Whatever his relationship with Joanna cost him, Geoffrey knew he could not disappoint Ian to whom he owed so much. |
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"If you are sure you are content, Joanna, then I am also content," he said softly. "Let us sit down, if you are not too cold. I have some other matters to discuss with you." |
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