Fair Maiden Read Free

because of that, he worried this castle would fall into
disrepair and dwindle under his care if he did not receive the money soon. He
knew there was some condition to ascertaining it, but he didn’t yet know what
that was. He hoped that his father would send his solicitor quickly to clear up
the matter. Until then, there was nothing he could do about it but try and
manage with what he did have.
    Footsteps echoed through the people-sparse room, announcing
the arrival of his dinner, which he knew would also be sparse since they’d only
just returned. But he didn’t mind. “Thank you, Jackson. That will be all for
now,” Christian said as the gray-haired, ashen-faced man settled the tray onto
the table with a trembling grip that caused the china to rattle.
    “You’re very welcome, Lord Krestly, it is my pleasure to
serve you.”
    Christian couldn’t help but smile and chuckle. Just the
sight of the man brightened his sullen mood, but, it was the formal address
that made him chuckle. Jackson had served him since he’d been an infant. The
man felt like an uncle to him and was dear to his heart. Therefore, he did not
expect such proper conduct from the loyal manservant, but Jackson had persisted
in calling him “lord” instead of “little lad” once he’d been given this castle.
“You know there is no need for such formalities.”
    “But I insist, my lord.”
    “Jackson,” he said, his tone a gentle reprimand.
    Jackson waved it away, offered a quick bow, and then
shuffled slowly toward the exit. “I insist. Now be a good boy, and eat your
supper.”
    “Yes, sir,” he said, and laughed when that got the reaction
he was hoping for: A cringe and another sharp wave of the elderly butler’s
hand. “You’re the best, old man. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
    “You’d survive.”
    No, I wouldn’t , Christian thought to himself as he
listened to the doors close behind Jackson. Well, at least not as comfortably.
And he’d be lonelier than he already was.
    He knew he needed to fill this cold dwelling with the warmth
that only a wife and children could provide. His lips cracked a smile at the
images that fond thought conjured. The cacophony of a chattering wife with
rambunctious youth clutching her skirts would brighten these hollow walls
nicely. But the smile slipped, he couldn’t even consider looking for a bride
until his finances were settled, and he wondered how long his father meant to
torment him. It could take days or months or...who knew? He certainly didn’t.
    His finger hooked around the handle of his teacup, and he
sippedat his tea. Chamomile , he thought, and then noted, as the
bland liquid warmed his taste buds with temperature and not flavor, that they’d
rushed the process a bit. Again, he didn’t mind. Tasteless tea was the least of
his worries. He dropped two lumps of sugar into it.
    While the cubes dissolved, he reached for the stale bread
brought in from the city no doubt, since Cook truly had not had time to bake it
from scratch. Smiling, he broke off a hunk and dunked it into the fragrant hot
soup. The ton would frown on him for that, but here, in his home, he
could do whatever he liked, even if it wasn’t entirely civilized behavior.
There was no one here to see it.
    Spooning up the last bit of potato from the broth, Christian
caught sight of movement near the door. He lunged to his feet. A lovely young
woman in an exquisite gown was moving across the room to the chair opposite
him. Her glide appeared utterly graceful, so much so, that it was unnatural.
She then sat down and studied him with the most intense green eyes he’d ever
seen. His spoon dropped from his fingers and clattered to the bowl. The impact
sent droplets of soup popping into the air.
    He gaped, and she gaped, both of their eyes rounded. It
seemed she didn’t expect him to be surprised that a woman he didn’t know sat in his home, at his table. Unannounced.
    He lowered back into his chair. “Excuse me,”