‘I heard they are being taken in a cage to Paris,’ de Grosmont says, staring absently towards the lead wine cup in front of him. ‘Like common criminals. Nasty business, an earl in a cage. Who would do such a thing?’ Harry’s heart does something funny then. Shifts and swells as if, after a long silence, it remembers a time when it would sing. ‘I couldn’t imagine, sir.’
