A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart. Do look at this tragedy in mauve, who has just come in. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. He came to her at once, and turning, walked by her side. ‘Just what I was going to tell you, miss.
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