“You’ll do no such thing, Sheila. Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. If you know her for the vicious, scheming wretch that she is, why in God’s name—?’ ‘She’s not a vicious, scheming wretch,’ Gerald said calmly. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. What I do know I shall have no hesitation in telling anyone who has the right to ask. It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. Wood hadn't struck me.
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