I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. According to Lucilla, this comtesse had constituted herself something of a social leader in the rapidly growing assemblage of refugees, and would undoubtedly be ready to introduce an eligible bachelor appropriately. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. The Master of the Mint IV. “I hope you have not come for that. “You look more like your old self when you smile,” he remarked. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days. And you will.
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