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Essay On Ambeth

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He fit the part of a villain perfectly, down to the streaks of gray hair at his temples in his jet-black hair. His obsidian eyes narrowed as they scanned her face. “Why are you doing this to us? My husband is gone. If you seek to ruin Heather’s chances with the duke, you will never be paid what you are owed,” Lillian hissed. Her eyes scanned the dancers around them to be sure no one was close enough to hear. Her eyes clashed with Heather’s, and Lillian could see Heather was upset. She straightened her shoulders and glared her hate at Lord Brightly. “There is so little satisfaction to be gained from Everly’s death. I simply want more? I’ve always been a man of largess. Tell me…how did he do it?” Lillian almost lost her step. “It was his …show more content…

“Oh well, I will seek him out tomorrow. Lord Endervale said he is convalescing at the Foal and Mare. Why, if I was determined enough, I could go straight there now. I wonder how the duke feels about suicides. Nasty business. Much like poison, it can damage everyone who is associated with the coward who took his life.” Lillian stomped on his foot. Lord Brightly yelped and they stumbled to the side of the room out of the way of the other dancers. “My lord, are you unwell?” Lillian said loudly. A footman came to assist Lord Brightly to a chair. Lord Brightly glared at Lillian. “You will regret this.” Lillian bent close to him, pretending to fawn over him. “Perhaps, but it was oh so satisfying to see you in pain.” Lillian left him. She knew it was unwise to provoke him, but with men like him there was simply no other option than to stand one’s ground. Somehow, they would find a way to silence him for good. She looked over the dance floor for Heather, but Heather was no longer there. *** Fallon had retired to his borrowed study at the beginning of the ball with a darkness inside he hadn’t felt since he was a small helpless boy, bedridden with lungs that would not allow him to do more than lay in bed and read. He hated the sight of Heather in another man’s arms. Innocent though the dancing was, jealousy boiled in him like hot tar. He sought refuge in the study and paced before the fire, his jealousy eating at his insides

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