Shame and electricity coursed through her veins, flowing directly from him in a flash flood. ’ She turned and swept away from him, pacing the length of the room to the window Gerald had unshuttered. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. “It is hateful—diabolical!” he exclaimed. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. ‘No need to shake in your boots,’ Gerald said soothingly. ’ ‘The nuns?’ she said, gazing at him innocently. He is in Newgate. ” “It is ironic that you say that, John, for it is I who am afraid of you.
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