How I wish I might meet this delightful mystery lady of yours. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. Recovering herself, Melusine tucked the weapons out of sight, down into the deep holsters hidden under the petticoat of her riding habit, and went back into the house where Martha awaited her in some impatience. Proof? There is someone who might be willing to help. She needed to protect the baby. Professing to stand between the robber and the robbed, he himself plundered both. ‘Now then, my lad, you’re under arrest you are.
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