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Chapter One
A shake to his bad shoulder brought Greville Anders aith a gasp Through the stab of sensation radiating down his arm, he dimly heard the coachman say, ‘Here we be, now, sir At yer destination Ashton Grove’
Trying to led to surface aclouds of laudanu coach journey The late-winter air spilling through the door held ajar by a
England He land No place else on earth had this combination of chilly mist and a scent of damp earth
Like a tacking sail that suddenly catches the wind, his vacant land, at Ashton Grove, the ho The manor where, at the intervention of his noble cousin, the Marquess of Engle transferred froade, while the Adal—i
Unfortunately, that also meant he must now attempt to convince his unsteady limbs to carry hi his still-roiling stoered into the early evening diait up to the entry and through a door held open by the butler
Perspiration beading his forehead fro hi the stately entry hall when an older, balding gentleiving hihted to welcome you to Ashton Grove’
The gentlehted that Greville bit back a s sound of skirts trailing over polished stone prole his head left
That uncoh to raise a red-blooded sailor froory into which, after the Illustrious’s action with that Algerian pirate vessel off the coast of Tunis, he’d very nearly fallen, he thought wryly before givingat a beautiful woman
For the first tiled pleasantly as he took in an angelic vision of golden hair and a petite fore te one to peek down at an adaze to the perfect oval of her face, large blue eyes stared back at him over a small, pert nose and plump rosebud-pink lips that were currently pursed She frowned
Greville suppressed a sigh Angels generally did frown at him
Long-inbred habits of gentility prompted hie still binding his chest and the fact that his equilibriu a surface beneath his feet that re, isn’t it?’ he asked ‘And…?’
‘My daughter, Miss Neville Welcolemere made your journey as comfortable as possible—under the circulance
The lovely daughterGreville hadn’t seen his own face in a glass for ear, with an unkempt beard and what he supposedfever, doubtless he looked nothing like the sort of gentlerand hall
‘Miss Neville,the introductions ‘Yes, Lord Englemere did…all that was necessary’ Given his already disreputable appearance, he thought it best not to h Portsmouth and thence by coach to Ashton Grove had passed in such a laudanum haze that he had littleone so completely unknown to you’
‘Not at all,’ Bronning replied quickly ‘I’lemere—and your sister, Lady Greaves, of course Her husband, Sir Edward, is a valued acquaintance But on’t keep you standing here with the evening chill co on! You must be exhausted from your travels Sands will have a footman show you to your room’ His room A real chamber with a bed that didn’t sith the roll of the ship, doubtless located in a private space he wouldn’t share with a score of noisy, tar-begri sailors
Heaven