She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. Spurlock remained where he was until the sail became an infinitesimal speck in the distance. “Close your eyes. The air became hot and swollen with June humidity. “You must tell me the truth, please. “Not much. “You did good!” She closed her eyes and rested in the moment, imagining a normal life where she would go to college, have babies with John, watch her children have children, live, and die as she had always wanted to. He jumped back, wrenching the sword away. “I’ll ruin your suit. The man Hill has persecuted me for months—ever since I have been in England.
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