“Because I hate you!” She spat. Now I do. Sniveling brats, little fatherless bastards, you should breathe a sigh of relief. Many little things had contributed to that decision. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. Her stomach growled, and she clutched at it in reaction, haphazardly observing that the gown had been changed to silk. This way there will be not so much shame, and the vicomte will let them remain. She left them and went back to Sebastian, never uttering a word about her visit. "But I have one last request to make. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it.
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