‘You said?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham, your great-aunt, miss. Her father was holding her waist, smiling. Did I not say so, Hilary?’ Melusine’s glance shot across to the newcomer, and found a petite blonde standing there, very fashionably attired in a velvet mantel over an apple-green robe, the furred hood framing a face alive with mischief. When he found himself thinking about it, it upset him so that he at once resorted to distraction. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning.
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