Gerald saw her eyes change as she recognised him. ‘It does not matter to me if he comes or no, madame. I know London better than you, and I have had to earn my own living. She was to be a Corsair’s Bride. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. She came quickly into the little parlour, which now seemed inordinately crowded, and coming up to Melusine, seized her hands in a warm clasp.
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