With a look into Isaiah Redmond’s eyes that, in another century, would have had the other man reaching for his sword to defend himself, Jacob Eversea led his wife away.Īnd their relatives followed. “What would you have them do, Isolde?” Jacob said gently. ” Isolde Eversea looked desperately at her husband.Īnd out of instinct born of years of love, for he knew Isolde so very, very well, he gave her his handkerchief as her eyes began to tear. “We’ll all go home.”Ī daughter bolting from the altar was practically a day in the life for an Eversea. It was the first word Isolde Eversea had said to him directly in over a decade.Īnd his face, as it always did, softened, in a way he simply could not help.Īnd that no one else watching could miss. “My son! Where the devil is my son? Was that my-”
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