If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify. Gerald crossed back to the window. "Yes. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. I’ve had a lot on my mind. . ’ The lady’s gaze dwelled thoughtfully on the half-drawn sword and then came up to meet his, an odd look in her eyes.
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