” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. “I lied, as I would have committed a murder, or done any evil deed sooner than lose you. And she would have to go tomorrow. The Trenchard estates will likewise be mine, for Sir Rowland is no more, and the youth, Thames, will never again see daylight. There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness. We shall never have an heir, you and I! My family is crumbling; all of my brothers are dead. He was way out of her league and it was downright odd that he had obliged himself to talk to her, let alone walk her home. How many nuns were there in England who might have occasion to spy on Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom? The presence of the French refugees took on greater significance. Listening on the dimlit landing, he saw Roding’s face muscles tighten.
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