’ Melusine’s heart leapt, and as swiftly clattered into dead stillness as the implication of the second name hit home. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. Lucy had just began to invoke a solace where John was concerned, doing her best to shelve him as not so special after all. It was Annabel’s. "Got the rooms mixed. “You little wretch!” she exclaimed weakly. Women and men had always flocked to him, covetous of his knowledge, his riches, and if all else failed, his carnal expertise. It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing.
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