’ She counted off on her fingers. 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. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. Chapter Four Two days later, it was quite another Melusine who confronted a young lad on a sunny morning, at variance with her bleak mood. True to her nature, Cathy had already offered John snacks and drinks of water twice by the time Lucy bounded down the stairs at 3:58. There was a bare chance that he had been mistaken.
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