The lady murmured briefly to her husband, and then tucked her hand into Alderley’s arm. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. He tried to raise an outcry, but his throat was again forcibly griped by Rowland. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. ‘You cannot read my mind at all, monsieur. “She has one, that’s why. “Close your eyes. People of your sort—I don’t want the instincts to—to rush our situation.
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