‘Why don’t you?’ Melusine frowned at him, grasping the dagger more firmly. “A most wonderful likeness, too. There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. Upon this island whither he was bound there would be no diversions, breathing spells; the battle would be constant. ‘And why not?’ ‘Because,’ Gerald said matter of factly, ‘convent-bred jeune demoiselles do not commonly know how to handle either pistols or daggers. Luckily, they were not easily discomposed. Flattened flowers aren’t for the likes of us. Miching Mallecho.
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