Chapter 8
Dearne’s jaw tightened as he watched the young woman march to the door of the cottage, the groom trailing behind her.
“You know her?”
Dearne said nothing, eyes pinned on the scene unfolding in front of them.
“Well?”
“Definitely not my sister,” he whispered back, slumping back against a hay bale. “I have the feeling I have seen her before, but I cannot place where.”
“It would be helpful if you could recall.”
Dearne’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think if I could I would?” he hissed.
Will shook his head. As Dearne recovered he was becoming increasingly irritating.
They huddled together, both peering cautiously through the narrow opening, and watched as the groom took a pistol from his pocket and put his hands behind his back, holding it out of sight. The young woman turned to
