’ ‘Did no one know, then?’ ‘No, for the vicomte, we learned later, wrote to General Lord Charvill in pursuit of his sister. He was placed in a coach, handcuffed, and heavily fettered, and guarded by a vast posse of officers to Temple Bar, where a fresh relay of constables escorted him to Westminster. She pulled his shirt from its tucked belted state and snaked her hands around his waist. Concealed among the trees that edged the estate grounds, the watchers paused. ‘Why?’ Melusine eyed him dubiously. It wasn’t clear to me that I had to explain.
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