‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes. “You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, are you not?” she remarked. She sighed with relief. . She writhed in ecstasy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then raised her knees to his shoulders. Then he slapped his hand on his desk and looked up with the air of a man struck by a brilliant idea. He dashed against the screen door before she could catch him and made the veranda. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had.
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