Royal's Bride
England, 1854
Royal Dewar crossed the massive oak-beamed entry of Bransford Castle, his tall black riding boots ringing on the wide-planked wooden floor. As he strode past the main drawing room, so impressive with its high, Tudor-style ceilings and heavy beams, he tried to ignore the worn Persian carpets, the way the bright reds and vivid blues he recalled from his youth had faded to shadowy, lackluster hues.
As he climbed the wide, carved mahogany staircase, he tried not to notice the feel of the wooden banister beneath his hand, once polished to a rich patina but now dull from years of neglect.
He had been home for less than two weeks, returned to England from his family's plantation, Sugar Reef, in Barbados, where he had been living for the past seven years. His father had fallen ill and the family solicitor, Mr. Edward Pinkard, had sent for him.
The Duke ofBransford is dying, the letter had said. In all haste, my lord, please come home before it is too late.
He was home at last, grateful to have this brief time with his father, but the house was dreary and in desperate need of repair, and he was unused to being cooped up inside. At dawn, after checking ... read full excerpt from: Royal's Bride ebook
