Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. He too, when she had disappeared, called a carriage. But he was not a father one could make much of. Under the circumstances you must permit me to be the best judge of the identity of the young lady who did me the honour, as an old family friend, of dining with me. Wood grasped his companion's arm to attract his attention to this unexpected means of escape. “What is going on between you two?” Lucy asked. She was thinking fast now, all her senses on the alert. Occasionally he revealed tidbits about his past after a good kill. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. Master, your humble servant.
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