’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. He did not write this with lead but with his heart's blood. His pride, however, would not suffer him to interfere with their proceedings; much less could he bring himself to acknowledge that he had been in the wrong, and entreat Lady Trafford to remain, though he was well aware that her life might be endangered if she travelled by night. But I may yet live to thwart them. ’ Melusine bit her lip. She laid her hand upon his arm. " With this, he struck the door a heavy blow.
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