She looked from Anna, who was far too nice-looking to be travelling about alone, to that reassuring pile of luggage, and wrinkled her brows thoughtfully. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. ’ ‘That’s better. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. Probably his first serious bout with John Barleycorn. He cupped her small hands in the bowl of his large ones and reassured her in the kindest manner, saying, “You will have the finest life that Florence has to offer.
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