27
My Husband, Most Beloved
Byrne kept thinking he should burn the letter. This feeling came as instinct, from his upbringing in the Southerlands, where anything put to writing had the potential to destroy their volatile world. Even books were scarce in the land of salt and sand. Reading had been Byrne’s first honest joy when forced to leave his boyhood behind, landing upon the doorstep of The Halls of Longwood’s library with a twinkle in his eyes.
Anger drove him as well. Anger at her. Asherley had kept all this from him. She’d been scheming for weeks, behind his back and under his nose, and he’d never been the wiser. He, a Warwick by blood, a Blackwood by fate, had seen not a sign. Of course, Asherley was always scheming something. She couldn’t help herself. Her mind, so unlike that o
