Had she expected to wed Valade herself? Had the fellow broken a vow of betrothal, or abandoned her? He must find out more. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. Bottles and glasses usurped the place of dishes and plates. The white cloth was instantly dyed with crimson; but, regardless of this, Jonathan continued his murderous assault.
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