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)
Her parents headed directly for the new duke and his wife while she hung back, just for a moment, to skim the room and get her bearings. He was here, she knew it. The man created something inside her, alerting her to his presence. Even if she couldn’t see him at the moment.
Some people she knew, some had bullied her, none of them mattered. She continued looking around. A dip of her head in silent acknowledgment when she saw Remington and Piers striding across the floor, pulling more than one appreciative set of female stares. There was no arrogant smirk on either face this time. They were nothing but serious.
Falcon was the one she recognized next, and he stood with his family. He broke away from them and crossed the large floor to her side. Reaching for her hand, he bent over it when she gave it to him.
“Always lovely to see you, my dear.”
“And you, Mr. Morgan.” A slight frown. “Although I wish it could have been happier circumstances.”
He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm before escorting her to where Bryn’s parents stood.
“Death is a part of life. He lived a long time.”
She cut her gaze to him. This was a man who had seen a lot for one so young. She nodded because, really, what could she say to that?
Falcon left her with another small bow and she found herself facing the new Duke and Duchess of Stokley. Dropping into a perfect curtsey, she closed her eyes for a second, needing just one more moment to gather herself.
“Your Graces, my sincerest condolences.”
Both returned the proper greeting then her jaw nearly dropped when Lady Stokely reached out and pulled her in close for a hug.
“Thank you for coming, Miss Fletcher. It’s so good to see you.” The kind words slammed home to her. This woman, suffering a familial loss, was offering her comfort, not the other way around.
“Please let me know if there is anything I can do.”
Lady Stokley drew back and cupped the side of her face. “You are a gem, my dear. Thank you.”
The moment she let her go, Rosamunde found herself in the arms of Bryn’s father. He held her gently despite the strength she felt in him.
“Thank you.”
When he set her back and gave her another nod, she tried to slow the thundering of her heart. Turning, she noticed her family watching her with a mix of anger and jealousy in their expressions, which was wiped away quickly as more began to look.
Spying Keely, she hurried to her friend’s side and hugged her without hesitation. Keely trembled in her hold but the tremble didn’t last long.
“I’m sorry.” It was such a blasé thing to say to someone who had just lost a loved one. Rosamunde didn’t know how to make it better. She’d had to turn inward when her grandmother passed.
“Walk with me?”
She nodded immediately. Whatever any of them needed her to do, she would without hesitation, as this family had made her feel more like she belonged than the one she’d been born into.
“It’s a wake and people are still trying to matchmake.” Keely’s words held more than a hint of disgust.
The words didn’t make sense.
Not then. However, they soon did.
Three steps into their walk, she found him. Bryn.
And the gaggle of women around him. Stabbing her own pain with a sword, she met his stare evenly and gave him a sad smile. He nodded in return, something unidentifiable in his gaze as he watched her with his sister.
Bryn wanted nothing more than to stride over the ballroom floor and draw Rosamunde into his embrace. To allow her touch and scent to calm the angry beast ripping him apart from the inside. To lean on her for support like his father did his mother.
He hadn’t been sure she would come. Not after she’d told him goodbye, leaving him alone to face the worst night of his life.
The tittering young ladies surrounding him held zero appeal for him and he couldn’t take it a second longer when Remington showed up to give him an out from the scene he hadn’t wanted to be in any longer. He left his friend and returned to his father’s side.
Right now he had a role to play. A duty to perform as the eldest of his father’s children. His family would be in full mourning for six weeks then for another six after that they would be in half-mourning. By the time he had finished the mourning period and could even consider doing anything with or for Rosamunde, she would be married to the bastard who didn’t deserve her.
Neither do you, his brain commented.
Probably true, but he didn’t give a damn. That woman was his. No other person in the world would be given the pleasure of hearing her moans, seeing her flush with passion—and they sure as fuck wouldn’t get the chance to be inside her hot, tight pussy.