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“I am going to ring in my room again”, said I, “you come.” No she would not. I went up and rang.The cook answered my bell. What a baulk ! but I was equal to it, — the cook had no business to come up, it was Molly’s place. “Do you think that Mrs. Brown or Pender, or some one on the farm has got anything good for diarrhoea?” “I’ll go and see”, said she good-naturedly. I knew she must be gone ten minutes, or a quarter of an hour.I followed her downstairs, soon rushed into the kit- chen, bolted the kitchen-garden entrance, laid hold of Molly, whose horror was extreme at the idea of being caught, and I fucked her in the butler’s pantry, where he slept. With my cock dripping as I pulled it out, I ran up to my room. She had just had time to unbolt the door before the cook appeared, and she brought me some medicine from Mrs. Pender, which of course went down the closet.I went to my bed-room, revelling in the intrigue of the day, and wondering how often Fred had had her, and whether that day. Not a knick marred the edge. It had a simple hand guard and a stout half-moon pommel. It was made for killing, not hanging as an ornament from a rafter in a hall. Sunburner thrummed in his hand. The blade thirsted for blood and this was good, for he could not hope that his family still lived, not if the stream had spoken true. He could imagine his wife and son floating on the river, sightless eyes staring to the heavens. Grief like a bear’s crushing hug seized his chest. The woods around him shimmered through his welling tears. A cry of horror rose in his core, a scream that might never end. His wife and son, gone. He had failed them. Could he find their bodies? Could he make a pyre and take his place beside them? Might flames restore lost honor? No, that was a weakling’s answer. He knew his wife. She was strong. Only vengeance would satisfy. And what of Lilaea’s offer? His blood raced at the memory of her near naked form. She was more beautiful than any woman he had ever known. And.
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