In Their Footsteps & Thief Of Hearts
In Their Footsteps\Thief Of Hearts
Buckinghamshire, England Twenty years later
Jordan Tavistock lounged in Uncle Hugh's easy chair and amusedly regarded, as he had a thousand times before, the portrait of his long-dead ancestor, the hapless Earl of Lovat. Ah, the delicious irony of it all, he thought, that Lord Lovat should stare down from that place of honor above the mantelpiece. It was testimony to the Tavistock family's sense of whimsy that they'd chosen to so publicly display their one relative who'd, literally, lost his head on Tower Hill—the last man to be officially decapitated in England—unofficial decapitations did not count. Jordan raised his glass in a toast to the unfortunate earl and tossed back a gulp of sherry. He was tempted to pour a second glass, but it was already five-thirty, and the guests would soon be arriving for the Bastille Day reception. I should keep at least a few gray cells in working order, he thought.
I might need them to hold up my end of the chitchat. Chitchat being one of Jordan's least favorite activities.
For the most part, he avoided these caviar and black-tie bashes h ... read full excerpt from: In Their Footsteps & Thief of Hearts ebook
