Closing his eyes, he let sleep creep up, in, over him.
In the now peaceful stillness of his mind, the thought that had jarred and jangled as, weeks before, he’d raced back to Wolverstone to bury his father and assume the ducal mantle echoed, reminded him of the uncertainties, the loneliness, he’d left behind.
Since then, through Minerva, Fate had laid her hands on him. Now, at long last, he could surrender; at last he was at peace.
At last he could love, had found his love, and his love had found him.
That’s what he had thought, but now he knew better.
About the Author
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Stephanie Laurens