He was carrying a tray holding her brandy, along with a bottle of wine and one glass. Marianne assumed the wine was for himself, and was surprised when he passed the glass to her. She felt in need of liquid courage and accepted it with an automatic “Thank you.” “You are welcome, Miss Harkness,” he replied punctiliously. “Shall I send Ned in to see you?” he asked Her Grace. The duchess gave him a sneering look. “What is he, a horse doctor?” she asked. “Yes, a very good one. He cured my Juno of the heaves,” the captain said blandly. She emitted a cackle of appreciation. “You are a cheeky rogue for one in your position. I shall not require your horse doctor’s assistance. I am feeling stouter now.” “It is yourself who is in a vulnerable position, Your Grace,” he pointed out. His tone was perfectly polite, but the firm timbre of his voice left no doubt who was in charge of the situation. “Your high friends will be no help to you here,” he continued, “and I fear I must detain you for the present.
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