Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. (“Good job. It was the one that she had sworn she’d throw out, if only Julian had not liked it so much. ” She replied. Lucy had baked the apple and pumpkin pies, carefully molding the flour crusts and adding extra teaspoonfuls of allspice and cinnamon while no one looked. Rumor in the Palazzo had it that her new doctor was a powerful archbishop from the south who conducted most of his dealings in secret. ‘To where has he gone off?’ ‘No use asking me,’ shrugged the captain. The guests congregated within the night-cellar were, in fact, little better than thieves; but thieves who confined their depredations almost exclusively to the vessels lying in the pool and docks of the river. Wild himself if I met him," retorted Jack. “I’ll be here at one in the morning.
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