![]() ![]() I may not even have a home tomorrow if you don’t let me in. I’m here to see the mysterious, reclusive Duke of Ashbury. All she had to do was square her shoulders, charge through the wrought-iron gates, march up those granite steps-really, there were only a hundred or so-and ring the bell on that immense, richly carved door. Now, six years later, she’d swallow every needle in Madame Bissette’s dressmaking shop before she’d go crawling back to her father.Ĭompared to all that, what was knocking on the door of a duke? She’d found work and made a new life for herself in Town. She’d refused to succumb to despair or starvation. Once, she’d walked to London alone in the bitter heart of winter. Ashbury House loomed before her, taking up one full side of the fashionable Mayfair square. ![]()
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