Marcus stood frozen, his expression stricken with disbelief as he turned toward the young woman standing beside his mother. Rosey, too, looked visibly unsettled, her fingers curling nervously at her sides.
“Before anything else,” Mrs. Ashford said with calm authority, “Rosey, this is your elder brother, Marcus. He looks like a mess because he happened to meet a rather rude woman on his way here.”
Rosey swallowed hard.
She was that rude woman.
Heat crept up her neck as the memory replayed in her mind the sharp words, the impatient glare, the complete lack of courtesy. She had never imagined the stranger she dismissed so carelessly would turn out to be her brother.
To her astonishment, Marcus suddenly smiled.
“Oh, hey.” He extended his hand as though nothing unpleasant had occurred be
