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

“Of…of course one must.” I’d send a message ‘round to Giffard informing him he’d have to see to the hops himself for today. “I’m at your service, Geo.” Colour rose to my hairline, and I cleared my throat. “Perhaps…” The hunting season wouldn’t start for another few months and I had no idea if the injury to his leg even permitted him to ride, but…“Perhaps you would care to try your hand fishing in our stream? We have some very fine trout, and I’m sure Cook would have no objection to preparing your catch for dinner this evening.”


“Oh. I…” I felt as if he’d struck me. “I beg your pardon.” So I hadn’t imagined that coolness. Yet what had I done to incur his displeasure?


“St. Andrew’s Church in Farnham is quite interesting,” Aunt Cecily mused, unaware of my distress. “It dates back to the Conquest, I believe, and can be reached in less than an hour’s time without pushing one’s team. I think you might enjoy seeing it, my dear Geo.”


Chapter 44