Lucy grabbed the hand cannon, stuffing it with powder, nearly missing a swing of the sword meant for her neck. ‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes. You must have figured that out by now. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. She was civil, but she was obviously impatient to know his errand. Wood's. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. A strong coarse man, and there were things in his eyes which made my blood run cold with terror.
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