There was a gentle rustling of skirts. He led her unerringly, pushing her down the narrow stairway that had been the servants’ access to the upper floors, and thence through a small door that led into the chapel. Tell me why you ran away from the convent. “Quite different. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. Lucy inhaled deeply. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee.
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