Tis none o’ yer business, Rory,” Aulay said coldly. Rory hesitated, and then straightened his shoulders and said, “Aye, ’tis. She’s me patient, and judging by her speech and the quality o’ the gown she wore, or what was left o’ it,” he added dryly, “she is a lady. If ye ruin her, ye will have to marry her, Aulay. I’ll no’ let ye take advantage of the poor lass in her state and treat her like she was naught but some light skirt. She thinks ye’re her husband.” Aulay just stared at Rory, the words reverberating through his head. “If ye ruin her, ye will have to marry her.” For some reason, they
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