The Trenchard estates will likewise be mine, for Sir Rowland is no more, and the youth, Thames, will never again see daylight. He kissed her at the door. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck. ’ He took a pace forward, seizing the gun with one hand, while the other locked her arm so that he could forcibly wrest the weapon from her. It had been part of her wedding trousseau, a gift from her family to his. ‘Then mayhap this will persuade you!’ With a scrape of steel, he drew his sword from its scabbard. You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy.
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