‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. But this time she wanted nothing for herself: she wanted something for Hoddy—success. ‘We will converse in your own tongue,’ he said in French as he led her away. Who could guarantee a safer existence outside Florence? That Sebastian seemed to have a weird immunity to the Pestilence was a trait that went unquestioned, unanswered. Ice had begun to form in the shallows. We know London, and you are a stranger here. That was Leonardo’s motto. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection.
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