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)
“Are you okay, Mama?” He spoke in the language of his African grandparents.
Her eyes glistened but nary a tear fell. Her smile, while slow, came as she tightened her hold on him.
“I’ll be fine, my son.”
A shift in the doorway snagged his attention and he flicked his gaze over his mother’s left shoulder to land upon his father, Lucien St. Martin. Dark hair now threaded through with silver and gray, his old man still cut a dashing figure. Not to mention an imposing one.
“Papa.”
Worried eyes dropped to Ciara before moving back to Bryn, who gave a small nod, letting his father know without words he understood the showcased concern.
Sure steps moved his father over the floor to behind his wife. Bryn pushed to his feet as his father dropped a kiss to his mother’s forehead. He stepped back even as something foreign flashed through his chest.
That’s what he wanted. A love like they had. What he’d grown up seeing since he’d been about eight. Even before that he’d never heard his mother say a bad word about his father. But once they’d crossed the ocean to get to England, he’d seen their love grow.
He’d had a front-row seat to witness the ups and downs of their journey. Even when they fought, and they did fight, they never stopped loving each other. Bryn knew the couple he’d grown up around were different than the majority of those in society. Not just by looks, but by the fact theirs was a love match and not just a status symbol.
“I’ll ask around some places and see if anyone has seen her.” And he would do so with stealth. While his father was the son of a duke, Bryn still didn’t want to bring any shame to the family and definitely didn’t want to have his sister’s reputation sullied. “Falcon’s in town, I’ll have him help as well.”
His mother tipped her head up, an honest smile on her face. “Tell him to come by for dinner one night. I miss seeing him.”
“Of course, Mama.” A nod to his father. “Sir.”
Striding from the room, he paused at the front door to shrug into his heavy wool coat and tug on his fur-lined gloves. Then he stepped outside into the cold winter weather as more wind and snow whipped around him.
His initial destination not being that far away, he waved off any carriage from the house, not needing his staff to be outside in this when he was simply going to be inside another house shortly.
He ducked his head to block the wet, stinging snow that blew with a vengeance. There weren’t very many out and about other than servants. He dodged them best he could and kept from slipping in the slush.
It was going to get nasty the later in the day that it got—all of this was going to freeze. Reading the weather was something he’d learned at a young age. Regardless, the cold already bit into his skin and he was grateful to see his destination ahead. He jogged up to the door and rapped with one black-gloved hand.
The door swung open and he found himself face to face with the Morgan household butler, Joby.
“Good morning, my lord.” The man stepped back, allowing him entrance.
“Joby,” he replied with a smile as he unbuttoned his coat so the man could assist him off with it. “Falcon up yet?”
“I believe Master Garrett has begun to break his fast.”
With a grin and a smack to the elder’s shoulder, Bryn struck off down the hallway to the room he knew his friend would be in. His stomach growled at the succulent scents wafting out of the doorway the closer he got.
I could always eat a bit more.
“Morning, Falcon.” He walked in without hesitation and made his way to the sideboard, which teemed with food.
His best friend in the world lifted his gaze, staring at him from behind the thick brown locks that tumbled over his forehead. One hand gripped a fork, which was paused partway to Falcon’s mouth.
“Mother kick you out?”
With a rude gesture, Bryn loaded his plate and walked to sit beside his friend, as opposed to taking a chair across the table from him. He didn’t feel like yelling his reasoning for being here so early.
“Something like that. She needs me to find Keely.”
White skin popped beneath the tan of his friend’s knuckles as he tightened his grip. Bryn wasn’t sure what to make of that so he let it go. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true, he did know what to make of it but wasn’t going to think about it, especially since the two of them seemed destined to ignore what was in front of them. It wasn’t his place to help them see their futures.
“Thought she was with friends in the country.”
Bryn picked up the mug of his warm drink. “That’s what I said to Mama, but she’s not so sure.”