"But you love me—-?"She stopped me with a hand on my mouth."My mother married for love; her family were well to do but she fell in love with a traveling actor. She married him against her father's wishes and was cast out of the family."Her face twisted in pain as she remembered past days."My father left my mother when I was a babe in arms. She worked at the most menial tasks to keep us alive, finally selling herself on the streets—-that is where love took her."Amy face was white with suppressed anger, and her eyes were a flinty blue."My mother died when I was ten years old. I swore on her grave, a pauper's grave, that I would marry only for a position in life, and not for that fickle fleeting feeling called love."To say I was bewildered would be a great understatement. I am a simple man, and I thought that when you met a lass that you loved, who loved you in return, you got married and had children. I wasn't gentry or nobility, but I did have a legacy, and I was an Officer and a. She knew there would be talk, salacious talk. But she also knew she had not been the only girl being talked about in the city.She saw two of the younger females pull their frilly bodices down beneath their breasts and another whose gown was unhooked all the way down her back with her admirer's hand inside it, both smiling all the while. She ate her breakfast with gusto and her aunt watched, amused as small sausages and lacy fritters disappeared."There is a young man here to see you," the old lady said blandly. "I put him in the parlor. The same one as before, the one-armed boy. He has some coffee and crullers so don't hurry. And he brought me two pounds of scrapple." She smiled, looking, Anne decided, like the cat that ate the canary."His name is Fields," Anne told her, lifting her chin and trying to look uninterested despite being impatient to see him. "We've known each other for years. Didn't I tell you? Since we were children. I'm not really sure what he does." The fact that she.
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