She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. About nine o'clock, an immense mob collected before the Lodge at Newgate. As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak.
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