She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. ‘To where has he gone off?’ ‘No use asking me,’ shrugged the captain. ’ Melusine looked resentfully at the pistol. She bolted awake in the large bed which was awash in a sea of silks, furs, and red curtains. Any one less courageous than himself would have abandoned the attempt from a conviction of its utter hopelessness; but, though it might for a moment damp his ardour, it could not deter him. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel.
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