‘No, no, I am convinced your very first theory was right. A couple of gilt straight-backed chairs only. 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. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. I was being stupid. So, when I tell you she loves you, I know. "Keep a sharp look out, Bess.
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