Chapter Forty Eight
“Destiny … Old girl, are you mad?” Orwell’s eyes, raked her, like skeletal ships passing into another world, one she was done with. “You can’t go with him I’ve secured Doom Bar Hall. Our home, I … I told you …”
“Your home, Orwell. And one I wish you luck of, joy, everything you could want in it. Divers, the boat. I think I sodding love you, just so as you know and I think you better sodding love me back because I really can’t stand here all sodding night, nigh unto and slowly bleeding to sodding death. I need to sit down. Mr. Wryson, you can tie Mr. Lyon’s hands once I’m seated.”
“With pleas—“
“Oh, it’s not quite nothing you’re going to, Miss Rhodes, as I’m sure Mr. Wryson here will tell you, although it is nothing much.” Lyon’s voice was dry. ”Yes. True love, eh? Why you’d run off with a man who has broken the law and will be hunted in every corner of this kingdom.”
She drew herself up. “Well, so long as it’s not every corner of the Earth, it’s none of your business.”