Chapter SeventeenThe Marchioness stopped and stared down at her dead husband.
Her mind was so inflamed with the desire for revenge and so bemused by a fire that seemed to consume all thought save that of a hunger for blood that she did not for the moment recognise him or remember who he was.
Then through a red mist reason returned to her for a split second and she called him by name. He did not reply and she made a movement as if she would have touched him, but the hand that she outstretched held the naked rapier-like sword and the glint of the steel reminded her of whom she sought and what was her avowed purpose.
Serena!
That girl, that minx, who had defrauded her of so much and who should be made to pay not only for the bad luck and ill-fortune she had brought to Mandrake, but also f
