It had her raven locks, her pouting lips. . “Stop! Stop telling me these things at once! We should stay in the Palazzo! I must protect my ancestral home!” Gianfrancesco exclaimed. "Few stay more than a day. ‘Tie a horse behind the carriage?’ he echoed incredulously. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. What more could any reasonable man— especially a watchman—desire? Besides, the Marquis, is a devilish fine fellow, and a particular friend of mine. “He wants to settle something on you, I believe. . ” Shari brushed by her mother in the hallway, who grunted. It was easy to discern Gianfrancesco’s mood. Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen.
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