Anthea Armstrong was not surprised to receive a letter from her brother shortly after Christmas. She had been hoping to hear from him since his departure, and while Christmas had been festive, it had also been lonely. She missed Alexander’s laughter.
It was snowing lightly and she sat before the fire in the library to read his missive, daring to hope it held tidings of his return. It was a nice fat letter, and she looked forward to a goodly amount of news.
To her surprise, Alexander’s letter was folded around a plumper missive. His message was surprisingly short.
My dear Anthea—
My dear Anthea—The seed sprouted.
The seed sprouted.You lost the wager.
You lost the wager.I look forward to seeing you at the London house so that you can meet my betrothed, Miss Daphne Goodenham.
I look fo
