Her efforts were vain. Until that moment, Jarvis had imagined the child to be safe in the wet-nurse’s cottage. In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire. ‘Because,’ said Lady Bicknacre in the confidential manner of all matrons when passing on a tidbit of scandal, ‘Nicholas married against his father’s wishes and ran away. As you know my seed is infertile with all women, they are no more than cattle, but it was not so with my Rhea. He hesitated for a moment and then he followed her. Perhaps he truly meant it – perhaps there was a force within him that could withstand the hardships of existing past a mortal lifetime. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. Spurling, drily. ’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her.
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