‘Why?’ ‘Why take me to France? Why trouble himself with me, when so easily he could leave me to this Monsieur Remenham to keep?’ To Melusine’s instant suspicion, Martha bit her lip, drew a breath, and avoided her charge’s gaze. It was a purse. I just want him, and no one else will do. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard.
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