” Her reverie broke, and she found herself still in front of the looking glass, a barrette hanging loosely from her hair. Only promise me this. Tristan dying and Isolde coming to crown his death. There was no response. ’ She saw suspicion darken his gaze. You—It’s jolly of you to confide in me. I swore to hang you two years ago, but I deferred my purpose. Recovering herself, Melusine tucked the weapons out of sight, down into the deep holsters hidden under the petticoat of her riding habit, and went back into the house where Martha awaited her in some impatience.
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