George turned to flee, but Thomas, who had been waiting behind him, raised his foot and kicked him to the ground.
From spotting George to successfully capturing him, no more than three minutes had passed.
The tacit understanding between Thomas and Exeter made me unable to suppress my admiration.
As a friend of the Duke of Cambridge, Thomas, besides being a captain in the Royal Legion, must also be of noble birth.
But why had I never heard of a family with the surname Claire?
George’s hands were pinned behind his back as he knelt on the ground.
He cried out in desperation, “Sir, madam, it wasn’t me! It really wasn’t me! I’ve worked in the manor for ten years and haven’t even hurt a rabbit. How could I possibly commit murder?”
Neither Owen nor Isabella spoke up in his defense.
I noti
