So Michelle’s plans were to out her in front of an audience. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. She allowed herself to be ejected, therefore, and retired to the parlour after cleansing the blood from her hands and her own slight wound in the kitchen. ‘Why did you bring him? I hate him. All her life Martha had been there. She did not remember how many seasons it took before she relented, how much time before she decided to toy with his affections. He will be hanged—hanged—hanged. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade.
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