By Laura Kinsale
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Additional resources for Midsummer Moon
She looked up into Ransom's eyes. There was not one trace of reason or understanding them. He made no greeting, spoke no word of reassurance, only grasped her arms and tore her out of Shelby's grasp. “Ransom—” Shelby said in a warning voice, but his brother gave no sign of hearing. When Ransom spoke, his voice was like the whisper of steel in a sheath, so low she could barely hear it. "Come with me,” was all he said. The pain of his fingers made her arms go prickling and numb. He released her as suddenly as he'd taken hold and began walking away.
Tactics, my dear sister. I quite know what I'm doing. Come along, Wiz. They'll have raised the ducal standard at the gate as soon as we came through. My mother keeps a sharp eye out for that. " Happy to escape the withering stare of Lady Blythe, Merlin tagged at Ransom's side through the door and into the Great Hall. She stopped, craning her neck to follow the tiered arches upward three stories to the ceiling, where frescoed angels battled red-eyed demons for possession of a golden coronet held out by a man in a Roman toga.
She licked a stray tear from the corner of her lips and sat up a little straighter. “No. I read about that—Monsieur Chappe's semaphore towers with the signaling arms? I thought that was very clever, but Thaddeus wouldn't learn the signals. " "Just talk to him. " "No. The electricity carries my voice through the ether, you see. Sometimes it buzzes a lot, especially if Thaddeus won't stand still when I'm talking to him. " "Hmm,” he said. " "Yes. ” Shelby's voice sounded odd. “It may be that he's right, Merlin.
Midsummer Moon by Laura Kinsale