” Lucy considered the irony that Michelle had spent seventeen years waiting to escape the suburban existence she had always longed to live. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. He drew her closer. She was a small blonde, not handsome, but with a flair for fashion demonstrated by her elegant chemise gown in the very latest Canterbury muslin, with its low décolletage barely concealed under a fine lawn handkerchief set about her shoulders, and decorated with a mauve satin sash at the waist.
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