She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. The constable, Sharples, is in my pay. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. She found she was trembling at his nearness and full of a thrilling dread that he might touch her. For five minutes he has been trying to think of something to say. We'll have him on his way before many days. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. What you’re after is too risky.
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