“Twyla swore that you’d be wide awake and would have finished breakfast by 6:30,” she said.“She was right,” I answered.“We need to start p...anning the charity raids. They start in a few weeks, and we want to do something special this year,” she said excitedly.“Like what?” I asked.“We thought we would re-enact the capture of the Confederate troops in town at the train station, and then have a parade from there with all the volunteers who dress up each year marching in the parade,” she. "Martin, nice to meet you Kelli. Give me a sec and i'll get the bag for you." Shame shame Martin" she said with a devilish grin and a fake thick southern accent. "Don't you Yankees offer a girl a drink before you do anything at all?"I chuckled, playing along. "Please forgive my lack of manners Miss Kelli. Can I get you something to quench your thirst?" I bowed from the waist, very low. When I came back up, I found that she had moved right in front of me."Well sir," she drawled, running her hand. He was in her senses, flooding her. He smelled so good, of sweat and leather and steel and masculine musk. How had she never noticed before? He smelled of violence and war and blood, and even as disturbed as she was by blood right now that smelled good, too, because it smelled of him. She could practically taste him on the air. Shaking, warring with herself. No, no, no. Not now. Not here. Not him, gods please, have mercy. Silmaria fought for control. She tried to push the primal, overwhelming. ’ ‘You wish me to do this? I am no maidservant.’ Constance gestured to Marie, where the chestnut-haired girl was sleeping curled in a tangle of linens on the floor, in Constance’s makeshift bed. ‘Why not Marie?’ ‘Be sensible, Constance,’ scolded Jacqueline. ‘Do you imagine that Beatrice will be at all pleased to see our wicked little Marie? All matters considered?’ She supposed Jacqueline was right. It had been Marie’s lie that led to Beatrice’s brutal use at the hands – more, at the ready.