‘Why?’ ‘Why take me to France? Why trouble himself with me, when so easily he could leave me to this Monsieur Remenham to keep?’ To Melusine’s instant suspicion, Martha bit her lip, drew a breath, and avoided her charge’s gaze. She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. I am really in earnest. That had shut him up for a while. Her confession was still unmade. She acted as her mother had taught her to. ‘You have no idea how dull the militia is compared to the Army.
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