Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
‘You look beautiful, sister,’ I say, taking in her simple muslin gown that is, naturally, made of the most luxurious material. I cannot even comprehend the level of excitement Eliza must be feeling, for now she will fulfil some of her biggest dreams, the first one being to travel far and wide. I expect she will return with glorious stories to write.
She smiles, a true smile, one that has been so very rare since we moved to London. For that alone, I will forgive the Duke for being a tactless beast, for he is quite tender with Eliza.
‘As do you, brother.’ She reaches for my jacket and tweaks a gold button. ‘Another new coat?’
I wrinkle my nose at her and swat her hand away. ‘Of course.’
‘Well, I suppose for a special occasion, it is acceptable.’
I roll my eyes and kiss her cheek. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Thank you,’ she says. ‘You know, I read your story last night while I was trying to get to sleep.’
‘I hope it did not send you to sleep.’
She laughs. ‘It did not.’
‘What a relief.’
‘It’s very good, Frank, I must say.’
I try to be nonchalant, as though of course I know it’s good, but Eliza knows me too well. It would be a waste of energy. ‘You really think so?’
‘Yes, I do.’ She removes a piece of paper from the satin pouch dangling from her wrist and slips it into my inside pocket. ‘You’ve always been a good writer, brother, that we all know. What was lacking was desire, and desire is what makes authenticity. I’m very happy to feel the passion in your words.’
‘Thank you.’ She knows that means an incredible amount to me, to know she thinks my words worthy of the front page that she has dominated for so long. I look at Johnny, who is approaching, and shake his hand, clearing my throat as I do. ‘Make sure you look after her.’ I frown to myself. ‘Your Grace,’ I add. Must I still have to honour him with his title, since I am now family?
‘Frank!’ Eliza gasps.
‘Really?’ the Duke asks, his hold of my hand tightening somewhat.
‘Yes, really,’ I confirm, not backing down. ‘Don’t make me hurt you, Winters.’
‘Papa, please,’ Eliza begs. ‘Make him stop.’
‘Or don’t.’ The Duke squeezes harder, making my teeth clench and my jaw start to ache.
I move in closer, my eyes narrowed, my hand, too, tightening.
‘Boys,’ Mama breathes. ‘Come now.’
Johnny yanks on my hand, forcing me forward, and then his serious, rather deadly expression cracks. And he smiles as he releases my hand and hauls me in for an uncharacteristically friendly hug. ‘You ass,’ he says over a laugh, as I discreetly shake my hand back to life. ‘Perhaps next it will be you walking out of the church with a bride.’
I snort, pushing myself out of his embrace. ‘Let us not get excited,’ I mutter, making him laugh, and Mama, Papa and Eliza look at me, all with tilted heads. ‘I’m too busy.’
‘Doing what?’ Clara asks. I give her another warning look. She has too much to say today, and I can’t say I appreciate much of it.
‘Oh, you are a treasure, my boy,’ Papa says over a light laugh, waving for Wisteria Winters, the Duke’s mother, to join us. ‘Come, come,’ he calls, and she does, bringing Johnny’s brother, Sampson, and his sister, God help me, Taya, with her. I remain focused on Eliza, not only to avoid Taya, but also because I have never seen my sister looking so radiant and it is quite the vision. I always knew she would need a strong, somewhat determined man to take her on. Frederick Lymington was, bluntly, never going to survive such a task, so it is just as well my sister fell into the affections of another man. Johnny Winters has got what it takes, I’m sure of that.
‘Ah, here is your transportation,’ I say, watching my horse, Figaro, which I have gifted to the newlyweds for a time, for he is fit and steadfast and sure to last the journey to the sea, pulling a remarkably ornate carriage up the lane. ‘I do hope you enjoy your bridal tour.’ I wander over when it comes to a stop and helpfully open the door for my sister. ‘Be sure to make plenty of notes and bring home many tales of your travels.’
Eliza smiles, picks up the bottom of her dress and proceeds to kiss the cheeks of Mama and Wisteria Winters before finishing with Papa, who smiles down at her fondly. Then she goes to her husband, and he helps her up into the carriage before turning and nodding to us.
‘We will see you very soon,’ he says, tipping his hat.
I smile, not looking forward to missing my sister, but very much looking forward to not having her stories to compete with. She’s an exceptional writer, could make even the most boring of tales riveting. We wave them off on their travels as a further two carriages are pulled up the lane to take us back to our house to celebrate.