![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Even with half of her face covered, she was as beautiful as everyone had told him, but she was also supremely elegant. It was the first time he had seen her in person, and he didn’t know why he was surprised. So, you are the Black Widow, thought Ludovic Dunne. Interestingly, she wore no jewels, and there was no other chair at her table. A domino cloak of deep purple hung over the back of her chair, no doubt because the evening was too warm to wear it comfortably. She appeared to be watching the dancers who had spilled out of the ballroom onto the lawn while she occasionally sipped from a wine glass held gracefully in her gloved right hand. It was a masked ball, one of those held twice a week at Maida Pleasure Gardens during the summer. ![]() Her mask was of the same shade of lace over a more impenetrable fabric. She wore a gown of some elegant, gauzy material in a unique lavender hue. Chapter One THE BLACK WİDOW sat beneath a chestnut tree, palely lit by lantern light and the solitary candle on her table. No one, certainly not the uncles who were entirely concerned with soothing Lady Cornish, offered her the smallest word of sympathy or condolence. She merely bowed her head and walked across the room to the door. “Get away from him! Filthy murderess!” In shock, Rebecca could only stare with more pity as Lady Cornish threw herself on the corpse of her only son, weeping uncontrollably. “My son, my son!” Rebecca had no time to get out of the way before her mother-in-law’s eyes stabbed her with hate and fury. ![]()
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