Tristan watched Sam walk away across the enormous hallway and set off up the grand staircase. He looked unutterably weary and Tristan couldn’t help the worry that set up inside him. Alfie’s words kept coming back to haunt him, the comment about men with injuries to the head apparently recovering only to die later. The thought of a world without Sam in it made his chest seize painfully and put some perspective on their argument. He swallowed a couple of times and went in search of Alfie. He found him in a corner engaged in conversation with Gareth. The pair looked quite animated and Tristan had to smile. He had never seen Alfie work up enthusiasm to overcome his fashionable boredom with anyone before. He took a glass of champagne from a passing footman and went to join them.
“Where’s Sam?”
