‘Peste,’ she wailed, as Emile dropped to the floor, ducking down. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. A boy no older than she, Gianfrancesco’s cousin, whispered what he would like to do to her when she stole into the hallways near the women’s chambers to fix herself. ‘Sir?’ Hilary threw a brief glance at Trodger, and quickly returned his intent gaze to the Frenchman, who had halted once more, and stood as if thinking deeply.
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