Knight of Christmas by Karyn Gerrard

Author:Karyn Gerrard [Gerrard, Karyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance, holidays, Christmas romance, Victorian
Publisher: KG Publishing
Published: 2018-06-11T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Angeline stood in the hallway outside Oakby’s little-used bedroom. She had not set foot inside since the undertaker had measured him for his coffin, and saw to the removal of his remains. Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and entered. The staff had aired out the room, stripped the bed, and had taken away the mattress and bedding to be burned. The odor of lingering death still hung in the air.

She supposed Quinn could have seen to this duty, but since Peter was off with Bran this morning, she needed something to fill her time. After all, she was instructed to remove all vestiges of Oakby.

Angeline was surprised at the fact that she had handed her son over to Bran’s keeping. She trusted him, which in itself was surprising since she had sworn never to trust any man again for any reason. Perhaps she clung to Peter too tightly. Even Bran had alluded to it. But her son was sickly from the moment he was born. He always caught the slightest sniffle. Loosening the leading strings may be the prudent thing to do.

The positive change in her son had been swift. Ever since his father died. No, ever since Bran entered his life. Peter was thriving in Bran’s company. The fact Bran treated her child with compassion and kindness had her wondering if they all could have a life together.

Enough silly daydreaming. Back to the task at hand.

Oakby had brought a trunk from Crossley’s eighteen months ago. She walked to the chest and lifted the lid. Oakby had not asked Quinn to unpack it apparently, as his clothes were still neatly folded inside. Dropping to her knees, she rifled through the contents. The clothes could go to the church charity, no use seeing them go to waste.

Inside the trunk she discovered a large leather pocket contained four large bundles of letters, all neatly tied. Some were clearly showing the signs of age. Angeline’s curiosity got the better of her.

Once she sat at the small desk in the corner, she pulled the ribbon holding the bundles together. Angeline glanced through its contents. Some letters were addressed to her late husband, but the majority of them were addressed to Sir Anthony Crossley in Oakby’s florid script. The yellowed envelopes could easily be divided into two distinct handwriting styles.

She started to read. Angeline had no idea they had known each other at school and since the age of fourteen. Oakby’s youthful letters were full of yearning. He was clearly infatuated. She could understand why even though she abhorred Crossley. The man had been handsome, until corruption had taken its toll. Angeline quickly scanned the letters they had written all through school up to attending university.

The emotions were growing more intense with each passing year. More blunt and descriptive. Obviously they had consummated their mutual lust during university. She opened another letter addressed to Oakby from Crossley when they were twenty-two years of age.

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