Did I not say so, Hilary?’ Melusine’s glance shot across to the newcomer, and found a petite blonde standing there, very fashionably attired in a velvet mantel over an apple-green robe, the furred hood framing a face alive with mischief. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. I saw him ride away with that other fellow. He would talk to Spurlock, but from the bench; as a judge, not as a chagrined lover.
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