‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. Sheila’s boys hadn’t been much help when they were around the house, anyway, they were more partial to lolling around on couches and running around with their girls. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. During detention she orchestrated Ray Plote's murder. A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart.
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