Chapter 23
She remembered seeing a wild rose somewhere in that mess, a speckle of cheerfulness amid the chaos and destruction. It was probably the only survivor of the splendid climbers preserved in the watercolor. Was it her father who had allowed such deliberate destruction? Why hadn’t he managed this estate the way he managed his other properties? Why had he purchased it in the first place? Letitia glanced sideways at her husband. He watched her, as gloomy as the weather outside. “This is the home I once had,” he said, his voice matching his expression. “This is how Wycombe Oaks appeared at the time it changed hands.” The intensity of his gaze could discompose even a stone. Was he blaming her for her father’s neglect? That would be absurd. Maybe he simply hoped she would never return t
- Writer
