‘That there governess didn’t like it, of course, me being the lodgekeeper’s girl, and Martha just a country wench like me. He fixed it. ’ ‘And you believe her?’ asked Lucilla, raising her brows. She was faint from hunger, her head spinning into dizziness, the blood madness readying for battle. Ramage came for her at her lodgings, and she met him graciously and kindly as a queen who knows she must needs give sorrow to a faithful liege. The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. You know that.
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