He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze. ‘How did you know that Mary was his daughter?’ Gerald hesitated. Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. Gerald? But could he be here so quickly? She hastily dabbed at her eyes, thankful for the darkness that she saw had come on outside unnoticed, dimming the room. ” “You said you loved me – did you mean it?” He said. ‘Was this when Nicholas commended you to this Abbess?’ ‘But, yes. The washerwoman reported that she had seen a man one day riding out for an early morning hunt, but was unsure of his identity. The vast mirrored chamber, with its four little square window bays, two either side of the large raised dais that led to the French doors, was very full of company for the start of the Little Season.
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