’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. They left the castle that day for another, packing with them the leftovers of the troupe that followed them from place to place, never asking about the occasional disappearance of one of its unlucky members. ‘But a spy I am not. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. Melusine stepped back a pace, her gaze fixed on the vision before her. Fool that I was to marry for beauty! I ought to have remembered that a fair woman and a slashed gown always find some nail in the way. “So she must have had you fairly young, right?” Lucy nodded again. Sheppard, struggling to escape, and holding the infant at arm's length; "have mercy on this helpless innocent!" And the child, alarmed by the strife, added its feeble cries to its mother's shrieks.
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