‘You, Mademoiselle Charvill, are as unlike most of your sex as you can be. Tell him the truth, Annabel. He caressed her tenderly, with no trace of the Sebastian who had previously knocked her off her feet with a slap across the mouth. ‘And what the devil do you mean by demanding that I wait on you here? D’you think I haven’t enough to do handling that caper-witted female’s affairs, without dancing attendance on you?’ ‘Don’t be cross,’ begged Lucilla, much to Melusine’s disgust. ‘Nevertheless, you will marry me,’ he snarled. Sir Rowland waved his hand, and the attendant withdrew. He saw the colossal selfishness of his act; but he could not beg off on the plea of abnormality.
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