She realized that no man had ever placed a mantle of respect upon her as Sebastian did; respect for more than just her pretty face and her now lost ability to bear children. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. And we men would work for them and serve them in loyal fealty. ’ The door closed behind them both and Gerald was alone with Melusine. " "I don't care for that," replied Jack. ” She sniffled. But she no longer obsessed over heresy, no longer did she feel cursed by God. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade.
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