Once they have eaten their fill, the worms pupate, spinning their cocoons and, when several days have passed, the sericulturist thwarts their incubation and halts the emergence of the moth mining the cocoons for silk. I have no intention of allowing this to happen to me. Thank goodness for loopholes logical thinking.” The Scientific Journal of Lady Philippa Marbury March 25, 1831; eleven days prior to her wedding Temple’s laughter echoed through the small, locked room. “Your Grace?” she prompted. His laugh stopped, as quickly as it had started. He did not respond, instead moving past her to the bookcase that dominated the far end of the room. He inspected the books for a long moment. He was sending her home. Likely looking for a book to keep strange, scientific Philippa Marbury occupied until he could notify someone of her presence. “I don’t need a book,”
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