The vestry was perhaps the only room in the place, except her allotted curtained off portion of the dormitory chamber that served for her cell—and she could not scandalise the nuns by having a man in there, be he never so much a servant—where Melusine could be sure of privacy. You owe what I have done for you, to him, not to me. “Never mind. Not up here, I think. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. His build was medium, he would never 5 tower over his peers, yet his shoulders were broadening, betrayed by an undeveloped set of pectoral muscles underneath his button-down shirt that she could tell frustrated him. Send you the shirt. Courtlaw is looking after you, Miss Pellissier,” she said.
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