‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Glancing swiftly towards the doorway, Gerald saw his friend’s disbelieving face and burst out, speaking over the top of Melusine as she made another grab for the little square of linen. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield.
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