“Very well.” His eyes met hers in a silent challenge. “I wish to see my bloodline restored to greatness, not left festering for eternity, housed in a stinking barn with only simpletons and animals for company.”
The venom of his words made her flinch, but she didn’t look away. Ugly as this was to hear, Anselm was finally being honest.
“The path I now walk,” he continued, “is the only route left to me.”
“And what of your honor?” Damn. I can’t believe I just said that. “Your self-respect?”
“I used them to pay the tallyman.”
If Anselm had only known that his faint smile affected Martha far more than any of his expensive gifts. At that moment, she actually experienced a twinge of pity for him, and for the man he’d become.
“And has your choice made you happy?” The softness of her voice mirrored her feelings. “Really?”
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