Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
I wouldn’t know what she looked like when she laughed, nor would I know the warmth I’d feel at its sound. I wouldn’t know what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a smile she’d fought against letting form. I wouldn’t have any idea just how comfortable and easy it was to be with her, whether we were bickering, joking, or trying to figure out an issue with the wedding.
I wouldn’t know her.
I wouldn’t know who she is today. What she found funny. What made her tick. What made her happy. What hurt her.
And not knowing her would be the saddest thing of all.
After Millie disappeared and ended our relationship, everyone told me everything happens for a reason. It’d been little more than half-hearted placations in an attempt to say something to make me feel better. Back then, I couldn’t think of a possible reason why I had to go through that situation.
Now, I knew.
Everything did happen for a reason.
And maybe, just bloody maybe, Sylvie was that reason.
***
“Oh, you’re in here.”
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” I said dryly without bothering to turn from my computer.
Zara huffed. “Is that any way to greet your sister?”
“Sister? I’d almost forgotten I had one, given it’s been weeks upon weeks since I’ve seen her.”
“Thomas.”
“You could at least pretend to be sorry, Zara.” I spun my chair around to face her. “And don’t ‘Thomas’ me. When did you get here?”
“Just now. The roads are awful, aren’t they?”
“Better than they were yesterday when I got stranded. I’m surprised you managed to get here.”
“I barely did. I came in from Barrow-Upon-Heath’s side. They gritted the roads over there.”
“Lucky for Barrow-Upon-Heath. Clearly, we know who the council favours,” I said dryly. “Did you drive all the way, or did you have to stop?”
“I parked up by Portland Farm and walked the rest of the way here. I’ll need someone to take me out there when the roads clear a bit.”
“Good luck with that. I’m guessing you haven’t seen anyone else yet, then?”
Zara shook her head and walked around the desk. I followed her movement with the spin of my chair and glared at her when she dropped herself into one of the chairs in front of the desk.
“Can’t you see I’m working?”
“You can take a five-minute break. Where is everyone?”
“Your son is at school, which is where all good children should be at two o’clock in the afternoon on a weekday,” I retorted smartly.
She wrinkled up her nose. “I thought they might have closed it due to the weather.”
“This is Yorkshire. Not London. It’s just a bit of snow. If you can walk in it and the heating works, you can go to school.”
“All right, I get it. Is Beth at the shop?”
“Eight days before Christmas? What do you think? I doubt she’s figure skating down the river.”
My sister sighed, covering her face with her hands as Heath came in with two cups of something steaming.
“Your Grace,” he said, putting one of the mugs down in front of me. “I saw Lady Zara on her way in and thought I’d bring some tea.”
“Thanks, Heath. I appreciate it.”
Zara beamed at him. “Thank you.”
I glared at her.
“Also, the cars have been recovered, and Miss Harding is safely back at home along with the pig,” Heath continued. “Your vehicle has been returned to the garage.”
Zara raised her eyebrows at me, but I ignored her.
“Thank you. Would you mind closing the door on your way out?”
“Of course, sir.” Heath bobbed his head briefly and left, closing the door with a satisfying clunk behind him.
“Miss Harding, eh?” Zara went straight for the jugular. “Is that the betrothed one or the single one you once smacked in the face with a cricket ball?”
“It’s the one that’s none of your business,” I replied without missing a beat. “You don’t get to come back here after the shit you’ve pulled and start being a dutiful sister. Be a dutiful wife and mother before you start worrying about me. I’m perfectly fine.”
“Ouch.” She looked down at her hands, and a brief flash of guilt swept over me.
Only a brief one.
“If you want me to apologise, I’m not going to,” I warned her. “Because I’m not sorry.”
“I don’t want you to apologise. You can’t apologise for speaking the truth.” Her voice was soft. “I know I’ve not been great to anyone, least of all Beth and Danny. I don’t really have an excuse.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” I saved the document I was working on and minimised it. “We’re all struggling, Zara. You’re not the only one still trying to accept Dad’s death, but your outright refusal to face up to your grief is burdening the rest of us, including your wife and child. Do you think I’ve had time to process my own emotions while running this estate and looking after the family?”