AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He leaned forward so his mouth was next to her ear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
Aine sighed. “You didn’t. Anyway, we were thinking…”
Razor laughed and clapped him on the back. “What did I tell you?”
“What was that about?” Aine asked when Razor walked out.
“He was talking about marrying your sister and how he wanted to wait in case she needed time to plan it, but she didn’t. I told him I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d agree to it.”
She smiled. “I do.”
“You do?”
“I absolutely do.”
Want more?
Want more from Heather Slade?
Keep reading for a short excerpt from
Shiver
the first book in the
Military Intelligence Section 6 series.
Shiver
“Thornton, are you listening?”
Shiver, as he was known to most outside of his family, turned away from the window where he’d been looking out at the dormant gardens of Whittaker Abbey. The land had been handed down, heir to heir, since 1547 when the former Cistern abbey was taken over by Henry VIII. Shortly afterward, the estate was given to John Whittaker as a gift from the king for his service.
As a boy, he’d explored every acre of the forested estate and its gardens, knowing that one day, the care and maintenance of the land would be his responsibility. It had seemed a long way off then—not until he was an old man, when his father, the fourteenth Duke, passed away.
Until then, he would remain the Marquess of Wells and, more importantly to him, a high-ranking agent in the United Kingdom’s Secret Intelligence Service, also known as Military Intelligence Section 6, or MI-6.
“I beg your pardon, Duchess,” he answered, looking lovingly at his mother, the woman who had been the guiding force of their family in the months since his father had suffered a debilitating stroke.
“What news of Sutton?”
Like him, his younger brother by two years, known to most as Wilder, was employed by “Her Majesty’s secret service.” However, he was on the national security side—MI-5.
Shiver sneaked a look at his phone. “He’s expected this afternoon.”
“Very good. You and he will get the trees.”
His first thought was to ask why the groundskeepers couldn’t handle it on their own, as they’d had even before his father’s illness, but he understood his mother was grasping for any semblance of what she considered normalcy. Choosing the trees that would be brought into the abbey and decorated for the holidays was something he, his father, and brother had done together until Shiver had turned eighteen and left for university.
“We will do,” he murmured, wondering how many trees his mother planned to decorate this year. Was more than one really necessary? It wasn’t as though they would entertain this holiday season.
Duchess Victoria was the eldest daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland, and still practiced what some believed to be archaic traditions of the English nobility.
“Come, sit with me,” said his mother, holding her hand out to him. “Tell me what’s troubling you.”
Shiver sat, but he had no intention of telling her anything. He also had no intention of lying, so he chose not to say anything.
“Have you seen your father this morning?” she asked.
