The highwaywoman dismounted quickly and strode up to the doorway of the cottage. Pickstock tried to shut the door but Belinda shoved her way in. She thrust her pistol under his chin and, in as fierce a whisper as she could manage, she urged George to speak. And speak he did. His plan had clearly not worked, he was on his own with the obviously murderous leader of the Committee of the Heath. “Five nights from now, in the Tannat valley near Oswestry. There’s a tavern, the Three Feathers. Three hundred yards beyond there, there’s a split oak tree, wait there an hour before midnight and some one will contact you.” “Give me a name, George, I want a name!” Pickstock was rising on his tip-toes from the pressure of the pistol-barrel. “I don’t know a name – no ‘onest, really I don’t. I just heard one thing_” “Speak!” “I heard them say ap Evan, that was all.” The rider dropped him and made for the door, pausing the leader of the Committee turned and said, “Be warned George Pickstock. The. As good as I was, it may have been pure lust that drove you. It was my back, after all, and not my neck." She laughed out loud at his conceit, then allowed as he was probably right.The tea kettle whistled and she got up to attend to it. Rob grabbed a cup from the miniperk and doctored it up, getting out of her way. He sat at the table and watched as she went through the arcane ritual of preparing tea. He admitted to himself that it certainly smelled better than the store-bought stuff, then wondered if it was his heightened senses causing him to think that. He took a deep whiff of his coffee and decided it was the tea.After cleaning the infuser, Elaina returned to the table, cradling her mug in her hands."You're going to have to teach me how to use that thing," he said, "For those times I make tea for you, or when my mother visits." She nodded."Here's my idea," she said, blowing on her tea. "I go the weekend, right through to Sunday night, without feeding." She gave him the hairy.
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