"I'd lay down my life for yours. The mock astonishment of his face immediately became genuine. ’ *** Everett, General Lord Charvill, master of a barony stretching over a wide estate that encroached on the hundreds of Witham, Thurstable and Dengy, stood before his own fireplace, glaring at his visitors from under bushy white brows from a head held necessarily low above a back painfully bent by rheumatism. She loved for him to regale her with the stories of his past, the days of ancient Greece. He was brooding over her, she could sense it, and the shadowy circles around his lovely dark eyes bespoke a terrible ongoing insomnia. It wouldn't do to say that she was from the hospital. “Shot through the lungs,” he remarked. ‘Go on, Gerald.
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