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Wood, who was standing at the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him. “Hainault, Celeste’s friend. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. "This gash," he added, pointing to one of the larger scars, "was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland, whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs. ’ ‘Well, I am glad he did not,’ intervened Lucilla, forestalling another withering comment from the captain. Jonathan, though a very powerful man, was like an infant in his gripe.
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