There was one letter. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. ’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. That wasn’t even the worst thing. Small wonder she had learned to be self-reliant. Rowland and his companions instantly started in pursuit, leaving the lady to recover as she might.
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