She was not altogether surprised when she found a deer, gutted of its entrails and strung with a garland of flowers, on the cave’s doorstep one humid summer morning. It is no crime, none at all. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away. ‘None of them means anything to you at all? How odd. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed. Before a month has elapsed, your mother will be mine. My natural parents both died a very long time ago and I have been on my own for a great deal of my existence. ‘But if there is one, how in the world did this mystery lady of yours know of it?’ ‘That, Lucy, is precisely the point that has been exercising my mind,’ Gerald said, turning his eyes once more to the group of French exiles in the alcove.
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