He knew she was out there, he could feel it. ‘How could you possibly know it?’ ‘I know it,’ Lucilla told him frostily, ‘because Dorothée told me that Madame Valade went off with Gerald positively purring in her ear—which is a thing he never does—and came back with him looking like the cat after cream. The sharp point of the sword at the girl’s throat bit sideways. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean. The spirit of disaffection was busy throughout the kingdom. Perhaps he had lost his loved ones and was wandering over the world seeking forgetfulness.
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