Chapter Thirty-One

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            Dorian traveled the 67 miles north-west of London to Northampton by carriage, along with the company of his Lieutenant. He knew very little of Northampton aside from the great fire that had occurred many ages ago and destroyed many lives. The town eventually rebuilt becoming extensive and very prosperous with the aid of marketing.

            As beautiful as the land was, much of the earth was littered with small pebbles and the sloped hills topped with soft stone. The hollow lowlands were heavily wooded, assembled with tall trees and a blanket of snow to coat the softened terrain buried beneath.

            Once they reached town, Dorian was surprised to find the noticeably small town teeming with commerce. From what he had gathered, much gossip had been said that the town was allegedly the finest in all of England with its structured buildings and widened streets.

            His essential motives drew him immediately into the lively crowds. With Stefan’s help, the two of them began their search for Lord Edric Collins. Most inhabitants knew of the Marquis, claiming the man was a highly admired advocate of the town with an exceptional background and education that proclaimed his aristocracy but most knew very little of the man’s whereabouts at that time.

            What information they had gained led them to a grand h-shaped manor with a spacious cobblestone courtyard. As their carriage rolled to a stop before the extravagant house, a servant appeared from within and waited. They announced their names along with their purpose and the hesitant servant led them into the great hall where they remained to be seen.

            As the two of them waited, Dorian caught a woman’s voice coming from another room speaking to the servant who had showed them in. He heard someone approaching and he turned as a woman followed by Lord Edric entered the hall and what he saw made his body go still with complete shock.

            Ginelle had spent a majority of her day roaming the halls that were now her prison. Despite the circumstances, she was finding it more difficult to be cold to the friendly servants, especially Thora. Her demeanor remained the same with Lord Sterling. She refused to submit to this sudden life thrusted upon her and to the troubling thoughts that Dorian may very well be happy to be rid of her. Doubts were beginning to set heavily in her mind and weigh deeply on her heart.

            She was moving quietly through the hall when a hushed voice came from the other side of the door. She paused, suddenly intrigued as the voice carried on, revealing the man to be Lord Sterling.

            “You have done what I asked?”

            “I have, milord.” Spoke an unfamiliar tone.

            “You are certain that the man is dead?” Ginelle felt her heart jump against her chest as she leaned in closer, straining to hear their exchanging words.

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