Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. He beamed as she whispered to 22 him that she had seen a table so fine or tasted such wonders. Alderley’s company of militia being his own, he was able to choose duty periods convenient to himself and his captain, and was under no obligation to wear dress uniform.
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