Wiping his mouth mechanically, he threw aside the
napkin, strode down the long hallway, and made his way out toward the
stables, buttoning his crimson officer's coat against the early
morning chill.
The great irony of his existence, and of his current fixation on a
woman he had never met, was that the same restless hunger which drove
him to her, and which was so transparent in his eyes, had acted as
both a heart-throb and aphrodisiac on a score of beautiful women,
English and Scottish alike, and he could have picked from their number
anyone he wished. Servant girls, ladies, wives and mistresses of other
men, all were quite helpless before his sharp and demanding emerald
gaze, enhanced as it was by his high position and rakish good looks.
At any moment there were always two or three jewel-like creatures who
considered themselves deeply in love with him, and would gladly have
forsaken all others to be his wife. But of these he wanted none.
Beyond the plunder of their willing bodies (and this very willingness
made him look upon them with contempt), he thought of them, and cared
for them, not at all.
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