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

“How do you do, Miss Munro? Welcome to Fayerweather, and Laytham Hall.”


“Thank you, sir. So you are Sir Ashton,” she murmured. She was a tall, willowy young lady. Long lashes dipped down then rose to reveal eyes that were indeed bluer than the bluest of skies. “I’ve heard so much about you.”


“You mustn’t believe all you hear.” I scowled at Arabella, but she simply looked confused. Who then…I set the question aside for the nonce. “I trust your journey wasn’t too exhausting?”


“It was, a trifle. I’m rather weary, not to mention chilled and parched,” she remarked as she stripped off her mittens.


“I believe an early night is what’s called for.” Aunt Cecily put back the hood of her cloak. “We’ll all have a tray in our rooms, Mrs Walker. If you’ll inform Cook?”


“Which room has been given Miss Munro?” Arabella handed David her muff and pelisse, then took her friend’s and gave them to him as well.


Chapter 75