Nineteen years ago
Adelaide
Mother squeezed my hand, her usual Montague mask gone as her smile shone my direction. So much for reverse psychology. It was too late. She wouldn't be able to influence Father. His decision was set.
"Adelaide," Alton said with a grand gesture as he stepped forward and placed a warm kiss to my cheek.
I tried to remember Dr. Sams' therapy. I tried to take in this moment, not only with my eyes, but with all of my senses. Inhaling, I decided my future husband carried the aroma of expensive tobacco and whiskey. I recognized the whiskey. It was from my father's private collection. No doubt while my mother calmed my nerves with Montague Manor private reserve wine, Charles and Alton were crossing the t's and dotting the i's of their agreement while the whiskey flo
