‘Why?’ ‘Why take me to France? Why trouble himself with me, when so easily he could leave me to this Monsieur Remenham to keep?’ To Melusine’s instant suspicion, Martha bit her lip, drew a breath, and avoided her charge’s gaze. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. ’ ‘Uh-oh,’ came from her infuriating suitor and his eyes dropped to the weapon she was dragging from the holster under her petticoat. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. Do you expect me, I wonder. . ‘Certainly you may have me under guard.
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