“I can tell you right now,” Mr. Darcy said, his voice strong even though he struggled to stand after having the air punched out of him, “that if you harm her in any way, you will not receive a farthing from my uncle.” Each of the robbers stopped, Sneyd jerking around as he turned to face Mr. Darcy. “And why is that?” the ruffian holding me asked. “What possible difference would it make to his lordship what happens to this little country miss?” “Because she is not some little country miss. She . . . she is my wife.”
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