Аннотация
Beckman: Lord of Sins
Lonely Lords - 4
by
Grace Burrowes
To those of us who’ve been prodigals. May we know when it’s time to come home, and recognize in what direction to travel.
One
“He insisted on seeing you off.”
Beckman Haddonfield heard his sister Nita clearly, though she’d whispered. The Earl of Bellefonte, glowering at his grown children from the foot of Belle Maison’s front steps likely heard her too.
“Your lordship.” Beck stepped away from his gelding and sketched a bow to his father. Even at this early hour, the earl was attired in morning dress that hung loosely on his stooped frame. His valet and the underbutler were flanking him, each holding a bony arm and trying to look as if they weren’t touching their employer.
“Leave us.” His lordship didn’t look at his servants as he gave that command. “You too, Nita. I won’t perish from the cold, though it might be a welcome relief all around if I did.”
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