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She learned quickly, absorbing all she could as quickly as possible as her adoration grew for him. "Take a drop of brandy before we start, watchman," said Wood, pouring out a glass of spirit, and presenting it to Terence, who smacked his lips as he disposed of it. From his pale skin and inky hair color it was apparent that his ancestry was half-Hispanic and half-European, perhaps French. A smile flickered upon her lips as she glanced towards Brendon, who was very serious indeed. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery.
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