Fritz flailed against his mother wildly, crying generous tears. I hate children. How I could have been such a fool I’ll never know. Days later, Sebastian found her by the lake, sobbing. Her tone was hoarse with passion. Jack was a comical scoundrel, and made a little too free with his grace's best burgundy, as well as his grace's favourite housekeeper. He impetuously grasped a hold of her hand, looking for a callous. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently.
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