From What I ve Tasted of Desire
Yorkshire, England, 1825 “But I don’t understand. Why can we not go?” “Mary, please. That’s enough.” Anna tries to sound firm as a governess should be, but it seems after all these years, this little hellion knows how to get away with acting however she likes. “But we want to go, too,” pouts the girl, slumping low in her seat, arms crossed and brows frowning most unladylike. “Speak for yourself,” interrupts John. Lounging in the window seat, book in his lap and sun gleaming off his blonde head,...
Romance