Lillian grimaced. “Bloody hell,” she muttered. “Damn and blast. Son of a—” “When the baby is born,” Daisy said with a faint smile, “you’ll really have to stop using such foul language.” “Then I will indulge myself to the fullest until he gets here.” “Are you certain it’s a he?” “It had better be, since Westcliff needs an heir and I’m never going through this again.
-Lisa Kleypas
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