In the Shelter of Hollythorne House by Sarah E. Ladd EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Sarah E. Ladd
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Christian Romance Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Wolden House, Leeds, Yorkshire
October 1817
Roland Prior had gone too far this time. This was not to be borne.
Charlotte’s racing blood boiled and fueled each step down the first floor’s
opulent corridor to Wolden House’s broad main staircase. With each inch
traversed she formed her argument. Anticipated Roland’s retorts. Sharpened
her rationale.
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Normally, arguing with Roland would only make a matter worse. When it
came to their infant son, Roland demanded complete control. But mere
minutes ago she’d been informed of his intention to send Henry to live with
his brother for the next six months while Roland traveled to the Continent.
The suggestion that Henry would be better off with his uncle enraged her.
How dare Roland keep her son away from her, for any length of time! She
knew well the possible ramifications of questioning Roland Prior. But for
Henry’s sake, she would fight.
The soles of her soft kid-leather slippers clipped the wooden steps as she
descended the staircase. She ignored the sideways glance from the liveried
footman and focused her attention on the heavy oak door to her husband’s
study at the corridor’s end. She lifted her hand and rapped her knuckles
against the door.
No answer ensued.
Annoyance flared. She knocked harder. Sharper.
When a response still did not come, she gripped the brass handle and
turned it, steeling herself for a battle.
But when she opened the door and stepped inside, the chamber was
empty.
She frowned. A freshly built fire roared in the grate, and papers and
letters, along with a half-empty glass of brandy, littered his desk. The heavy
aubergine velvet curtains were drawn in the chamber’s two windows, and
the fire’s saffron glow reflected off the glass decanters on the side table and
the gilded mirror on the opposite wall.
She huffed, disappointed not to be able to give voice that very moment to
her frustration. She pivoted to leave, but the toe of a polished black boot on
the floor captured her attention.
The sight of it, prostrate and positioned at an odd angle, slowed her blood
that just moments ago was racing.
Gooseflesh rose on her arms.
She inched closer, one step at a time, until she could see around the
desk’s edge. There, on the Persian rug beneath the window, lay Roland in
an unnatural position on his back. Unmoving. One arm was tucked
awkwardly behind him. Papers were strewn around him. His icy blue eyes
stared, unblinking.
Nausea seized her, and her hand flew to her throat.
She screamed.
The footman she’d encountered just moments prior rushed in and pushed
past her.
The next events simultaneously slowed and sped up.
Servants streamed in.
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