"And the Marchioness is your daughter," added Thames. . Well, you shall know. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. Her stomach growled, and she clutched at it in reaction, haphazardly observing that the gown had been changed to silk. She felt very cool as he opened the door for her, as if she should have chic sunglasses and stiletto heels on, dark red lipstick. There was more shouting. Sheppard. Tears sprang to her eyes. My name is Annabel, not Anna. She spoke slowly. She thought of Sebastian who often returned from the charnel house that the outside world had become. It remains a bizarre idea to me that Lucy Alberti could ever become so detailed or so real, but I’m certainly glad to have made her acquaintance.
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