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Post by Tony on May 3, 2008 17:10:46 GMT -5
*Liam had found him in a deplorable state and forced him back to the house, discreetly bidding the servants keep an eye on Mr. Blakeney so he did nothing rash. Thus, Tony was trapped by the eyes which followed him everywhere. Despairing, he shut himself into his rooms and alternately wept and stared into nothing. When sleep came after several open-eyed days at a time, he was only plagued by nightmares of Teleute.*
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Post by Ellie de Winter on May 3, 2008 17:44:12 GMT -5
*The only eyes that didn't watch were Ellie's. For weeks she seemed to always be out of the house, visiting friends or riding, or reading. Her rooms weren't anywhere near his, but when she walked the house at night, she could hear him weeping. At night, she couldn't pretend he wasn't there.*
*She found she couldn't get the image of his heartbroken stare out of her face. It haunted her in her sleep and it was all she could do not to run and comfort him. It would break all of the rules of propriety; it wouldn't be correct. And she didn't even know the man. All she could drag out of her brother was that he'd been in love and lost her... she had the distinct feeling that Liam didn't know much more than that anyhow.*
*So tonight, like any other night, she walked on her usual route around the house (she could never get to sleep unless she'd trod every corridor in the house out of habit), pausing for a moment in front of his room before padding off, barefoot. She pulled her dressing gown closer around her as she reached the end of the hallway and turned back around, passing the door again as she moved toward the north wing, where her bedroom was.*
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Post by Tony on May 4, 2008 14:24:15 GMT -5
*Tony sat on the floor before the hearth, gazing into the fire.*
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Post by Ellie de Winter on May 4, 2008 14:30:09 GMT -5
*Ellie sneezed loudly. That was smoke. She smelled smoke. Though she knew, as a rational human being, that smoke usually meant a fire in the fire place, the buried memory of almost burning with the house was awakened by the smell, and the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. She walked a little faster in the other direction.*
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Post by Tony on May 4, 2008 14:34:19 GMT -5
*Tony buried his face in his hands, every part of him seeming to ache with the loss of her. Even as he shut his eyes her image rose before him...first smiling...loving...then she wasted away, again, and he was helpless to save her or even ease her pain.*
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Post by Ellie de Winter on May 4, 2008 14:45:22 GMT -5
*Ellie walked back to her room, trying to remember the name he'd called out by the beach.*
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Post by Tony on Jun 3, 2008 8:59:02 GMT -5
"I'll see you again...someday..." *he whispered.* "Even if only for the instant it takes you to usher me to the other side...long enough to see you smile."
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Post by Tony on Jul 16, 2008 5:37:28 GMT -5
***NEW DAY***
*Tony leaned against the mantlepiece with one hand as servants moved about quietly behind him, packing his few things into a trunk.*
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Post by Ellie de Winter on Jul 16, 2008 5:47:11 GMT -5
*At least he was doing something other than angsting, she thought to herself as she passed, heading for a spot in this wing where she liked to read. Her skirts swished quietly, but she never had mastered the silent, quick step of most well-bred young women, resulting in the soles of her shoes clicking against the varnished wood floors. She'd be glad to see him gone, she'd decided, because despite her best efforts at being a friendly, polite hostess, he'd still been the most aggravating man she'd ever met.*
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Post by Tony on Jul 16, 2008 5:56:51 GMT -5
*At last, all was made ready, and Tony pulled on his dark greatcoat before picking up his hat and gloves, preceding his luggage through the hall to the foyer below, where a carriage waited for him. He made his farewells to his host and hostess, then departed the house, bound back for France and his father's estate. With Liam gone, there was nothing to keep him at Manderley.
He settled back against the seat cushions and rubbed at his already pounding headache.*
Nothing at all.
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