Mary listened to his story, her brow knit with concern. "Oh, Edmund..." Her hand tightened around his. That was positively dreadful. How could she use him of all men? That took a special kind of cruelty, in her mind. Mary had done some callous things in her youth, had flirted with men she wasn't interested in, but she would never take it that far. Perhaps it was because Anna was a spy, but that didn't excuse it in Mary's mind. "I'm so sorry."