Wicked Liaison - Meara Platt Page 0,221

Forester Hall. Maybe this would be good for her. If she were entertained and surrounded by society, she might not feel the need to converse with her long-dead love.

As he sipped his tea and pondered the potential positive aspects of the visit, his mind also pondered what it would be like to see Miranda again. And even though he didn’t want to provide her with another opportunity to reject him, he did need to hear directly from her, her reason for her not attending the ball. Only then would he be able to put her from his mind. Painful though her words may be, he needed to hear them to be free.

“I’d love to have you attend with me, Grandmother. You and I will have a grand time. Of that I am certain.”

“I’m not looking for a grand time, Wesley, though I appreciate the sentiment.” She chuckled.

“Then why do you wish to attend?”

“Misses. I should have gone to Castle Keyvnor in June, but I will not make that mistake again. Thankfully you didn’t succumb to foolishness.”

“Foolishness?” Unless she was referring to so many believing that ghosts inhabited the castle. She should know that he’d never succumb to such illogical beliefs.

“Misses at weddings get strange ideas and seek out bachelors in need of a wife.”

“I’m not in need of a wife,” he argued.

“Yes, you are, but that is not the point,” she argued. “To them, you are of a perfect age, status and wealth to be lured into a betrothal, and I’ll be there to protect you.” She slowly smiled. “Unless the right miss is present, of course. Then I shall allow her to ruin you.”

“Grandmother!” Wesley had never heard her utter such a shocking statement in his life. Besides, gentlemen were never ruined in the manner to which she referred.

“Oh bother. I may be old, but I well remember being young and filled with desire.”

This was not a conversation he wished to have with his grandmother of all people. Further, he most certainly did not wish to think of her as filled with desire. Grandmothers did not desire. Yes, the thought was irrational, but it was also a matter he did not wish to consider, or even think on.

“You are to leave for Hollybrook Park as soon as you are packed,” his father announced as he stormed into the library.

“We can easily wait a day,” Wesley argued. He didn’t want to arrive earlier than the other guests, especially if Miranda confirmed that she’d avoided the ball because she didn’t wish to have anything further to do with him. It would make for a damned awkward visit.

“Some matters need to be dealt with immediately.”

“What matters would those be, dear?” Grandmother asked.

“The residents of Laswell have lured a ship to the rocks.”

Laswell was the village not far from Forester Hall. Many of the residents were smugglers. Though, to Wesley’s knowledge, they’d not wrecked a ship in centuries. At one time it was a regular practice to lure ships to gain their cargo. Or that is what he’d been told, but the practice had ended during the reign of Queen Elizabeth, if he remembered correctly.

His father crossed the room and grabbed the decanter before pouring a glass of brandy.

“Why should that cause us to leave for Hollybrook Park sooner than intended?” As the words were said, Wesley’s stomach sank and he hoped his father had a reasonable explanation and not what he feared.

“Because the ship was from Bocka Morrow.”

“Bloody hell!” Wesley groaned as his fear was confirmed. “Why would they do so?” he demanded. An agreement was in place that when in need, Bocka Morrow would shelter Laswell ships and offer assistance, and the same assurance was given to ships from Bocka Morrow by Laswell residents. The two smuggling communities worked together and had for decades. Why would they break the agreement that had been in place for as long as Wesley could remember?

“I don’t yet know why they committed this travesty, but I intend to find out.”

His grandmother thumped her cane then rose without hesitation, as if her bones no longer pained her. “You deal with the residents of Laswell and I’ll see what I can do to repair this insult to Lynwood and the good residents of Bocka Morrow personally.”

Wesley blinked as he watched her march from the room. It was as if decades had slipped away and his grandmother now appeared to be the formidable woman of her youth.

Chapter 2

Though it should be Wesley who dealt with Lynwood, his grandmother

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