Capítulo 58: Heartbreak.

The wispy wind, like a hand to his face, did not stop cutting into his skin with its invisible claws as knives. Rochester should have had enough of the bitter cold, but he wasn't willing to give up yet—not just yet. For the past few minutes, he had dwelled in hiding: perching beside the corner of the wooded whorehouse. There, he sprained his neck, slightly taller, studying the scene between Samantha and Simon playing out before his eyes. The butler was such an actor. Rochester could recount him shouting an astonishing cry upon seeing Samantha mosey over to the side of the horse.

"I do not have any reason to lie to you," Simon was presently saying, his tone was not too thick or any thinner. He merely needed to play the part. The coach was quite proximal to Rochester's hideout. "He already left, in a fury. I did not know what had happened to have him stomp off, but—"