Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Bryn stood beside his parents, greeting the guests and accepting their condolences, yet all the while his gaze trailed the chestnut-haired beauty who tempted him beyond anything.
His father nudged him with his shoulder until they were slightly away from everyone else and their conversation couldn’t be overheard. “If you’re not planning on making a declaration now, son, you need to stop staring at her like she’s yours.”
He closed his eyes and shrugged. “She is mine.”
All his father did was grunt.
“Apologies, Papa. I know this is neither the time nor place.”
They were relatively alone at the moment, others gathered in small groups as gossip filled the room. Food would be served soon in the drawing room, and musicians played some lightly somber music.
He noticed that Rosamunde had stepped up and began ushering some of the older women to the drawing room. Pride filled him. This woman had no idea of her impressiveness. How she fell into place like a perfect piece.
In his life. In this life.
She didn’t need to be away from him. Hell, simply being in the same room with her calmed him.
“You know societal rules didn’t agree with my marrying your mother. Despite her being a princess.”
“I’ve heard the story, Papa.”
A sad chuckle escaped. “I know, but that’s not what I was going to say.”
Bryn glanced from where Rosamunde escorted Lady Burton toward Lord Chatterly and walked them both to the door. “What were you going to say?”
“I didn’t give a damn about the rules then. I married her because I loved her and I wanted her. Many need to fit into the rules and follow them to have a happy life. That’s not been this family. Ever. If it were, Falcon wouldn’t be your best friend. Phillip wouldn’t be part of our life anymore and none of us would have the wives and families we do.”
His father took a deep breath and grasped his arm. “You’re now the Marquess of Heartstone, son. You do what you want because that’s all the reason we ever needed. In fact, there’s not a single reason better than that.”
With that, his father walked away, slipped up behind his wife and settled his hands on her waist. His mother didn’t cease her conversation but she did lean into the man behind her and pat his arm.
Yes. That’s what he wanted. More so now than ever.
It wasn’t until people had settled into the food, sitting in the scattered chairs in the drawing room, that he found a moment to step away. He’d noticed how his sister had introduced Rosamunde to plenty of eligible men who, if they had still been on the original plan, he may have as well, but now he didn’t want her around any of them. The only reason he remained calm was that for all intents and purposes Rosamunde was an engaged woman, so this was merely a formality of introducing her to other members of society she’d not met yet.
He stepped outside and rested his ungloved hands on the snowy balustrade. With deep breaths, he centered himself once more. A slight shift in the wind told him who was out there with him. Even the winter wind couldn’t cover the scent of wild mint and violets.
“Back to stab me again, lioness?”
She moved up beside him, close but definitely not close enough. With her, unless they were skin to skin, it wouldn’t ever be enough. He angled his head to look at her. No coat, and the wind blew her dress tightly against those mouth-watering curves.
A hitch in her breathing. “I came to offer up my condolences. I’ve spoken to everyone else in your family.”
He clenched the firmness of the banister, remembering sitting here as a boy in warm weather.
“Thanks. You should probably head inside now. I’m not fit company.”
Her mouth opened but she shut it with a nod and vanished as quietly as she’d arrived. And took another piece of his heart when she did.
He closed his eyes and opened them when a warm wool coat settled over his shoulders. Glancing down, not much, he found his brother standing there.
“How are you holding up, Henry?”
“I miss him. I knew it was going to happen as he was older, and to expect it, but I miss him.”
Shrugging into his coat, he gripped his brother’s shoulder and nodded. “I know. Me too.”
Keely walked out and without a word stepped between the two of them, wrapping an arm around them each. Many families didn’t hug, didn’t show affection. Not theirs. They had been raised with love and affection and it didn’t bother them to show it. Especially not with one another.
They separated not too long after and his siblings vanished back inside to where the warmth waited for them. Bryn lifted his head to the cold and took a deep breath.
“You may as well come out here. I know you’re there.”