Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. I have said good-bye to it all. ’ ‘Get on, Hilary, do,’ begged Lucilla. She seemed tense when not playing, he noted, more so than she had during the first two pieces. She went about the familiar home with a clearer and clearer sense of inevitable conclusions. ’ ‘Not until you release that dagger.
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