Dear Lady Truelove,

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I am a girl of noble family, but I am painfully shy, especially in my encounters with those of the opposite sex . . .

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For Clara Deverill, standing in for the real Lady Truelove means dispensing advice on problems she herself has never managed to overcome. There’s nothing for it but to retreat to a tearoom and hope inspiration strikes between scones. It doesn’t-until Clara overhears a rake waxing eloquent on the art of \