They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. ’ ‘Why should I?’ ‘Because I can’t live without you!’ ‘That is your own affair, and—’ Melusine broke off, staring at him, shocked realisation kicking in her gut. It slipped out—as did that “she”. Melusine, used to the stark surroundings of the convent at Blaye, had no complaint to make. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. ” “Thousands of women have married merely for freedom,” said Miss Miniver.
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