Steeling her resolve, she stepped further into the study. “Regardless if I have your blessing, I have made up my mind. I love Hugh Maclain. It is he whom I will wed.” Pap guzzled the remaining dregs. Slamming the bottle to the table with a belch, his gaze wandered to the hearth rather than to Charlotte. “No.” He drew the word out and it hung in the air and chilled like death. “You cannot marry a corpse.
-Amy Jarecki
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