‘You speak as if you expected to meet her again, Gerald. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. He would never recognize me now. Oh, Mr Jarvis paid no mind,’ she added hastily, as if expecting disapproval. ‘And if it was not for that imbecile of a Gérard, who has put his soldiers to watch for me, it would not need that I make it.
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