‘Pardon, mademoiselle, but perhaps your father went to England, after all, and —’ ‘My father went to Italy,’ interrupted Melusine, her heart tightening with the familiar sensation of loss. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. If you attempt to play the traitor, you will do so at the hazard of your life. What he told the vicomte I was not privileged to learn.
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