Twenty–EightSt. John sipped at his brandy. He hadn’t taken the time to enjoy the quiet, unobtrusive company at Whites in a while. But then, he had been rather preoccupied the past few weeks.
He nearly laughed to himself at the understatement, and if things had worked out differently perhaps he would have actually laughed. But not now.
He could not fathom how he was going to live without seeing Rose. He knew, of course, that she would never want to see him again after he was responsible for ruining her life. He had known when he’d asked her to break her engagement that he would be risking his friendship with her. He’d had to try to save her, and perhaps he would have succeeded if Kirtland hadn’t chosen that exact moment to step in.
Despite everything, though, he still loved her. She had
