They might applaud, or object, or interfere, but the drama was her very own. Marina doted over her pregnant daughter, adorned in fine brocades, reassuring her that it was certain to be a either a baby boy or a girl of such great beauty she would eclipse them both. Do you understand?’ ‘Aye, sir. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape.
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