The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. Nice lady. Relief flooded her. It was evident the lady’s servant knew his mistress, for he had come equipped with a tray upon which reposed a decanter and two glasses. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. "Let it pass. The lady whose husband had been Mayor of Hartlepool looked at Anna and sniffed. This I know for at the Valade estate it was talked of very much, even that they supposed me there to be the daughter of Suzanne. But you must tell her.
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