Ashton Laytham was a happy little boy until, at the age of seven, he lost his parents. Sent to Fayerweather to be brought up by his uncle and his uncle’s wife, he was perceived to be an unhappy, unlovable child. Shunned by family and servants and permitted no friends to visit, he grows to adulthood alone and aloof, with only an occasional illicit rendezvous to lighten his days. When his uncle dies, leaving the estate virtually bankrupt, it’s left to Ashton to make good on his uncle’s gaming debts and save Fayerweather. But how? The family talisman, worth thousands of pounds, has been stolen and the suspects vanished in the night, leaving Ashton to face the loss of the home he’s come to love. Geo Stephenson, who works in His Majesty’s civil service, has ghosts of his own. The product of a marriage of convenience, Geo has known all his life his father never loved his mother, and he vows that will never happen to him. Marked by a physical scar earned in battle, none of his previous lovers could bear looking at it without shuddering; his mental scars are due to the many friends lost in useless battles. Geo arrives with a fistful of Sir Eustace Laytham’s IOUs and a solution: Ashton accommodating him in bed, thereby paying off the debt. Attracted to Geo in spite of himself and desperate for any human kindness, Ashton agrees ... never expecting to lose his heart to a man who has sworn he’ll never give his. Can these two men find a measure of happiness together?

Bless Us With Content

Geo ran a fingertip around the rim of his wine glass. “Father has told me much of the Flame of Diabul. I understand it’s no longer in your possession. Such a pity I shan’t have the opportunity to see such a splendid stone.”


“Yes,” Aunt Cecily murmured hollowly, “a pity.” Her eyes skittered away from his. David refilled her glass, and she reached again for her own wine, almost knocking it over in her haste


“Tell me, Ashton. What thought you of the ruby?”


“I?” I’d said very little throughout the meal and was startled to be drawn into the conversation.


“Yes, you. After all, it was the Laytham talisman, and I believe that you’re now the last of the Laythams.”


Or rather the last of the legitimate Laythams. “Yes. As you said, it was a splendid stone.” Whose value would have done greater good if used to see to the upkeep of the lands. I shoved my chair away from the table. “Aunt Cecily, would you excuse me, please?”


Chapter 35