She stepped backwards. They showered together. There was a second co-respondent. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady. Straw and other combustibles being collected, were placed in the middle of the audiencechamber. “She thinks that Missy is trying to turn me into a punk or a Goth.
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