’ ‘But she must have known I’d longed to hear of you. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. Don’t you think? Tum, tay, tum, tay. ’ *** 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.
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