*Barkley*
After ushering Jayne upstairs to get dry and warm and reassuring her that I would take care of this situation, I join my mother and Leo in the parlor. It doesn’t help matters that I’m wet and chilled. I pour myself a brandy and down it, welcoming the warmth it spreads through my body.
“You should get into dry clothes and then we will talk,” my mother says.
Easing over to the fireplace, I relish the heat provided by the burning logs. “We will talk now. What are you doing here?”
“I think the more pressing question is: what is Luna Seafort doing here?” My mother asks sharply.
“She was invited. You were not.” I tell her.
Standing before me, my mother arches a dark brow over remarkable brown eyes that never overlook anything.
“And while she is here, she is known only as Miss Ja
