She stole her glances sideways like the rest of the women. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. It was a fetching gown that stretched tightly in a cream colored swath over her breasts and expanded to a full skirt with a petticoat. ’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. ” “I don’t want absolution. The idea of your being a failure would never have occurred to me.
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