” She shivered. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. And your great-niece. Journeying blindly half way across the world, this man had found his quarry. Lucilla clearly adored her betrothed, anyone could see that. In the genuinely dissipated face there was always a suggestion of slyness in ambush, peeping out of the wrinkles around the eyes and the lips. But some people have no consideration. Too late. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. ‘Bon. ‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir.
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