Rochester stood still watching his cousin.
He felt the anger in his veins and was about to blow the fuse.
Richard deserved a huge deal of abuse for all the trauma he'd gifted Isabelle...
Richard waited, head up and chest out. His confidence was well out like a prize medal set upon a pedestal for the world to see. He looked at his cousin with bright, blue eyes set on a sharp face that suited the purpose of his philandering very well.
Richard's eyes fixed on Rochester. Totally unyielding, Rochester slapped his hands into his pant pockets.
"Rochester," the man mumbled.
Rochester looked at him, dimming his sight as if he needed to pass the message to him that they could not get cordial. Ever. He looked to his left and saw Thomas holding Louisa by the shoulder to make her stay. That was not much of a pretty sight for him. He took a rigid step forward to where Richard stood.
