Break Me: Smith and Belle (Royals Saga Book 12) by Geneva Lee

Author:Geneva Lee [Lee, Geneva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ivy Estate
Published: 2021-01-11T18:30:00+00:00

15

Smith

I found Rowan adding a new lock to the Bless office doors. He stepped back and appraised it. “Too much wind,” he told me. “It keeps gusting open. This should do the trick.”

“Thank you,” I said. I hadn’t sought him out because of work, but rather to dig up more information on the history of Thornham. “I was wondering if I could ask you another question about the Thornes.”

He shrugged, leaning to pick up the tools he used to add the lock. “I told you pretty much everything I know.”

“That’s actually what I wanted to ask you about.” I’d been thinking about Rowan’s information all afternoon. According to everyone in town, all of the Thornes disappeared. Even Longborn had seemed shaken when Miranda’s remains hadn’t been with the others. Despite the rumors that seemed to cling to her, it appeared that everyone assumed she was dead, too. In the way of country superstitions, people were just as likely to believe they were seeing a ghost as the woman herself. But if what Rowan said was true, they couldn’t have seen her at all. Miranda Thorne had been locked away in an insane asylum. That left me with one more question for Rowan. “How did you know that she’d been institutionalized?”

Rowan turned, but his beady eyes focused on something in the distance. “That’s not really my story to tell.”

“I just want to find her,” I told him. “Confirm that she’s been locked away. Some of the things that happened since we moved in can’t be explained.”

“I told you that’s always how it’s been at Thornham. Finding Miranda won’t help you with that,” he said in a gruff voice.

“But how did you know that she was alive and in an insane asylum?”

Rowan chewed on his cheek for a moment as if considering how much of the story to share before finally sighing heavily. “I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. Not with Seth dead.”

“Who Seth?” I asked, feeling confused.

“My brother. He worked here before me,” he reminded me.

I nodded, hoping he would continue.

“He was several years older than me. Twenty-three and with plenty of Scottish charm,” he told me with a wink.

“You can’t blame a Scottish man for that,” I agreed with him.

“You can’t. And you can’t blame a Scottish man for turning a woman’s head — even a married woman’s head.”

I was beginning to get a better picture of life in Thornham years ago.

“Miranda Thorne was a beautiful woman,” he continues. “By all accounts, she loved her husband desperately when they were first married. That’s how they wound up with so many bairns. But sometimes love doesn’t last forever.”

“True love does,” I said softly.

“I hope in your case you’re right,” he said with a shake of his head. “Maybe she still loved him. I don’t know much. They grew apart. By the time I came to work at the house, the marriage was all but over. Then one night, there was a big fight between Mr. Thorne and Mrs. Thorne. Everyone on the estate was talking about it for days.

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