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The rusty gates of Greystone Manor told a visitor all they needed to know about what lay at the end of the long, winding drive Like Greystone’s desperate tenants, flakes of paint clung to the iron railings in the hope help would soon arrive Ivy strangled the stone pillars But the structures were stronger than the poor people forced to live in raes
Damn the man
No, damn the devil
How Greystone’s steward lived in such a so the estate iven such a paltry allowance And where was Greystone while his ancestral home rotted away? Abroad if Seth’s description proved accurate
But not anymore
The day of judgement had come
The rogue had returned
Lydia had iined this moment many times in her dreams, had rehearsed exactly what she would say if ever their paths crossed Oh, and she would have her say Even if she had to e her way inside
Raising the hood of her cloak, Lydia stepped out from the line of trees, strode over to the entrance and pushed the rickety gate It creaked and groaned in protest, refused to budgewas as useless as its master She kicked the bottom, stubbed her toe and cursed the devil back to hell
Refusing to suffer defeat at the first hurdle, she wrapped her fingers around the bars and practically throttled the thing But the sudden pounding of horses’ hooves drowned out the sound of her ragged breathing
Lydia swung around but struggled to focus in the dark She stepped back onto the narrow lane, noted twoand kneas too late to hide
It had to be Greystone
Who else had cause to descend on the estate like a horseman of the apocalypse ready to rain pestilence over the landscape?
Fear rippled across her back
If the man had no conscience, hoould he react when pounced on by a lady at night? Perhaps she should have waited until athered around their h to chase away her apprehension