His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. ‘Well then, Melusine,’ he said calmly, ‘it seems as if we must get you your dowry willy-nilly. She did not have the power of men. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. ‘Assuming she can prove her identity, does Remenham House belong to her?’ Mrs Sindlesham shifted her shoulders. She was feeling extraordinarily well that night, so that the sense of her body was a deep delight, a realization of a gentle warmth and strength and elastic firmness. ‘Yes, miss. He hesitated.
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