” He extended his hand. When I carried you up here like a bride, that is the way I wanted us to be, Mary Lucia. He waited. ” She could practically hear the self-deprecating thoughts racing across his mind, the failed hours of rehearsed lines. I wonder how it is,” she added, “that boys always make love so impertinently. I hadn’t heard of him before the trial. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. ‘What are you going to do now, child?’ Melusine sighed away the last of her distress. At the back of her mind, dim and yet disconcerting, was the perception that she herself did not know what she wanted.
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