For every Eden, there will be a serpent; for every sheepfold, there will be a wolf. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. She could feel her face turning beet red. ’ ‘But what dispositions?’ ‘Posted the men I had brought back with me all about Golden Square to watch for Valade. I proceeded to Manchester, to investigate the matter further, and when there ascertained, beyond a doubt, that you were the eldest daughter of Sir Montacute Trenchard. As if it were she, and not Melusine, who had been hurt by the imposters.
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