The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. No surprise, for Melusine was aware no Frenchman in his situation would dream of walking abroad unarmed. ‘I am Major Gerald Alderley of the West Kent Militia. Still, I am curious.
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