’ ‘I thank you,’ Gerald said drily. She wedged the towel between her legs. I knew it. ’ ‘In one little minute,’ she said, snapping her fingers, ‘it is over and voilà tout. You will be wearing your travelling dress, and no doubt you would prefer it. Who is to say that I am not André Valade, an obscure relation of the late vicomte. ’ Lucilla gaped. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. ’ ‘I do not lie to you now,’ she said, near frantic at the thought of losing him.
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