‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. Give me this picture. A slow heavy thumping started up in Melusine’s chest, and she scarcely took in the astonished silence in those present in the room. ‘This is altogether insupportable!’ She dug a hand into the recesses of the petticoat of her riding habit and a moment later Gerald found himself once again confronting the barrel of her overlarge and tarnished pistol. Women and men had always flocked to him, covetous of his knowledge, his riches, and if all else failed, his carnal expertise. .
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