Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. Wood glanced at the hardy offender, and not liking the expression of his countenance, thought it advisable to postpone the execution of his threats to a more favourable opportunity. He was conscious of a quickening of his heartbeat and the familiar rise of adrenalin that sent his senses soaring in anticipation. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. She lay and nibbled at a sprig of dwarf rhododendron. Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. Gianfrancesco took her that night gently, for which she was glad. Moving to the shuttered window, Melusine dragged the heavy drapes back.
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