The staff seemed strangly unmoved by the sudden and brutal death of their lord. Later, I learnt that he had not been a kind master.
His lady, however, was rather more emotional. She rushed from the door and knelt beside his bleeding corpse. Weeping. Quite uncontrolably.
Jacques was by then at my side.
"You know what to do," he said in his silky smouth, almost sickly, French accent.
I swept her up and my arms and carried her inside. She was too shocked to resist. Hastily, I located a secure room in the cellar and placed her on the stone flagged floor.
Only then did I really look at her. She had grey-blue eyes, as bright and hard as ice. I still recal how they wept. Her hair was long, now wild, and jet black.
The resemblance between her and my lost Annabel was striking, but it only moved me for a moment. I turned my back on her and locked her in that cell.
'Now do you have what you have been hunting?" Jacques asked.
I tried to ignore him.
As the servents set about burying their master, I set about looting his home.
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