She had gladly lowered her eyes as she had been instructed to in front of the fine ladies and lords, as she was more interested in their clothing and fripperies than their faces. It wouldn’t be you. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. “Julian, I don’t want to get married!” She blinked in 119 disbelief as she saw how hurt he was by her reply. “Dear husband,” she murmured. As Jack departed, a dark figure, emerging from behind a wall, rushed after him. "If that sickly brat lives to be a man," continued Jonathan, rising, "I'll hang him upon the same tree as his father.
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