Description
At the age of seven I was a skillful pickpocket. I could sew neatly, write a tolerable hand, make a curtsey and a correct introduction, dance a little, and play simple tunes on the harpsicord. Yet with all of this, young Felicity Hatton was little better than a street urchin. She was poor and knew only the bare essentials of life. But she wanted more. And whn chance brought her to the HOuse and saw the Old Vine for the first time, she knew someday it would…it must…be hers. And so it was to be. Felicity Hatton was to become the new mistress of Old Vine–a strange mistress whose choice of husband was to be as unorthodox as her singular style of living.
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