‘I have said it is not stolen,’ snapped Melusine indignantly. ‘Why?’ ‘Why take me to France? Why trouble himself with me, when so easily he could leave me to this Monsieur Remenham to keep?’ To Melusine’s instant suspicion, Martha bit her lip, drew a breath, and avoided her charge’s gaze. He dined, and then pleaded a political engagement. He had been thrilled at her attitude about the subject, which was simply not to turn others into vampires. He had just arrived from Manchester, whence he had been summoned by that treacherous thief-taker. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence.
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