.. dainty little things, slender legs, muscles that ripple and bunch as she moves, knees that knock only slightly with every step and skin... bronzed ...kin, that gleams with a lustre stolen from the sun, glides over her body as it tries to contain all that she is in that instant. Midnight tresses, shimmering and silken, dance about her jaw as the wind picks it up and runs it through his teasing fingers, snatching it back from her brow one moment only to throw it forward the next, flicking it up. ‘Do, please, call me Jessica and may I address you as Maria and Madeleine? I feel as if I have known you for such a long time. Mistress Pickles has often spoken of you.’ I sensed Maria react oddly to this news. ‘You are a friend of Mistress Pickles?’ I asked. ‘More, I should say, a recent client.’ We spent a few minutes talking to her. She was, it transpired, Mrs Tansley, her husband being a banker in the City of London. ‘He is a very busy man and, I fear, not at all a lady’s man, if you. More

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