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Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. But about the unknown Englishman she was not so satisfied. Not with the unavoidable explanations, and the need to secrete the sword and hide it before returning the priest’s horse to its stable—which had been her excuse for running from Martha’s protestations. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. ‘Except Captain Roding,’ agreed the old lady, nodding at the butler. ’ ‘You, perhaps?’ she flung at him furiously, stepping out from behind the desk.
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