Chapter 13

She belongs to me. I will have her.

Thomas Blankenship ascended the steps to his townhouse, seething. He knew what that fool Parr was up to. He means to play me against Essex in a secret bidding war. Well, I won't play that game. She's mine.

He pounded his fist on the door rather than use the knocker.

His wizened butler, Baltus, appeared at the door. "Welcome back, sir."

Blankenship only growled and stamped past him into the hall. He shrugged out of his coat and threw it at the footman who waited by the stairs.

"Bring me brandy in my study, Baltus."

The dimly-lit study reflected the remainder of the house. Years of grime coated the windows and fireplace. Dust layered the books on the shelves and ink stains splotched the worn carpet beneath his desk. He had more than enough money to keep his house clean and in good repair, but he rather liked the symbolic decay of his living quarters. It reminded him of his own life, and urged him to fight harder to claim what he desired. Emily Pa