She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. “Oh good. Won’t you let me—can’t I be of any assistance?” He was obviously in earnest. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. Gerald’s chest tightened. “I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. Don’t imagine that. ” Mike said as he vigorously shook Martin’s hand. If only this man had been her father! The world would have meant nothing; the island would have been wide enough. It was her past now, not Annabel’s.
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