” “I will wait,” said Ann Veronica, still not looking at him, “and we will go into Regent’s Park. But oh, how weary I am! I know. ” Courtlaw turned abruptly to Brendon. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. Sebastian had come to visit his old friend and former wife. Only the next of kin. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up.
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