At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. ’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. “John, we should be getting out of here. It had her raven locks, her pouting lips. She had found a couple of articles about him over the years, blurbs about the opening of a theater that mentioned him. She had known that Remenham House would be deserted, for Martha—released, as she had carefully explained to her charge, by her vows to God from servitude and obedience to Nicholas Charvill, a mere mortal—had begun a correspondence with a friend of her youth, Mrs Joan Ibstock, née Pottiswick. ‘And just who is Leonardo?’ ‘How in God’s name should I know?’ demanded Roding irascibly.
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