![]() Nerves on end, he placed his cup and saucer on his desktop. Ian’s first thought was that an emergency had struck his family, since his sister, Ivy, was expecting her second child within the month. “It’s marked urgent,” Braetham replied, the lines on his aging face flat and noncommittal. ![]() ![]() “Pardon, your grace, but a note has come for you by messenger.” He doubted he’d ever get past being startled by a simple noise, even in his own home.īraetham, his butler, stepped inside the room. Time healed all wounds, or so it had been said.Ī knock at his study door made him jump, and his teacup rattled on the saucer in his hand. As usual, he lacked the concentration to get much done, but it was enough just to be sober and living. ![]() It wasn’t yet eight and already he’d been awake for hours, poring over his financial books in an attempt to dull the daggers in his mind. Ian Wentworth stared out the window of his study into the dull, gray morning, the rolling hills of Stamford hidden by what remained of a nighttime fog. ![]()
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