Lucy could see the anger in her silhouette, the punishments and the grounding being formulated for the now dead daughter. Cautiously stepping outside, he looked up towards the terrace. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. " The Wastrel laughed. " "Then you are taking me on?" Spurlock's eyes grew soft like those of a dog that, expecting the whip, saw only the kindly hand. Of course, at home there would have been questions.
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