His long white hands looked luminous to her, and as he turned to glance at her it seemed only his eyes were alive in that carved visage—amber jewels lit by fire. She sounded surprised to be asked. She was a lovely girl, very confident of herself; that in itself was intriguing. Where's your beautiful Hispano? Still at the manor, unless someone has driven it back to the Hall.
It isn't him. Why doesn't he say something? Just watching, like a huge eye in a microscope… She felt caught in a web of tension. He was cold. He did not reply, only sat down in the chair beside her with a wry twist to his lips.
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