He staggered back a few paces; and, before he could recover himself, Thames tripped up his heels, and, placing the point of the spike at his throat, threatened to stab him if he attempted to stir, or cry out. If he stayed in the basement apartment as was his usual habit, she would have no problem. But the letter, written in his son’s own hand, and addressed to the Mother Abbess of the Convent of the Sisters of Wisdom near Blaye in the district of Santonge, dated a little over five years previously, exercised a powerful effect upon him. “You are mine, Annabel, and nothing shall ever make me give you up. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned.
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