Page 105

And what of his brothers? Rowan already hated him, and Drake probably already knew, would say he’d forsaken their parents’ memory and placed them all in danger because of a woman.

But she wasn’t just any woman.

Kenton stood and made his way up the stairs.

When his hand landed on the doorknob, an unfamiliar feeling assaulted him, an unease that started in his gut and made its way into his chest, settling there like an overly large meal. Kenton suddenly knew what he had to do, but that didn’t mean it would be easy. After last night, he really had no other choice. Letting his hand drop, he turned from the room and walked away.

* * *

Alessandra turnedthe bracelet around and around on her wrist. How was it possible something so simple could contain so much power?

Her father’s satchel could not be a coincidence.

Having already dressed, she grabbed her purse, shoving her phone inside. She’d already checked it, reading through the cryptic—talk later—text from Kenton and seeing the roughly one thousand missed calls from Toni. She walked downstairs and stopped in her tracks when she spied the dining room.

Was he serious?

The center of the table was covered in an array of fruit and pastries, although Kenton was nowhere to be seen.

“Are you hungry, Miss Alessandra?”

Mary stood beside her, looking at the exorbitant, and entirely unnecessary, display.

“Are we feeding the entire town this morning?”

Mary smiled, a kindly smile free of censure. Even so, she thought it might be a bit creepy to have a full-time housekeeper.

“Just you,” Mary confirmed.

She walked inside the room. “Where did he get all of this?” she asked, picking up a grape.

“Delivered just a few minutes ago,” Mary answered. “There’s a pot of tea waiting for you as well. Will you require anything else, Miss—”

“Just Alessandra, please.”

She couldn’t take the formality.

Mary smiled. “Alessandra?”

“No, thank you.”

Wandering through the stuffy old room, its ornate furnishings making her slightly uncomfortable, she perched herself on the edge of an upholstered chair. For someone who loved history, antiques had never really been her thing. Looking at them was fine, but living among them . . . not so much. Too many of them were dusty and uncomfortable.

Of course there were copies of every major newspaper on the table. Did people really still read those things? She picked up a local paper and tried to concentrate on the words as she nibbled on a blueberry muffin.

Just the top. She had no use for anything besides the bits with the caked-on sugar melding with blueberries that still oozed they were so fresh.

She took her phone out and called Toni, putting her friend on speaker while she added sugar to her tea.

“Hey, you called?”

Toni laughed at the understatement of the year. “Just once or twice. When I didn’t hear back, I came up there—”

“Up here? When?”

“This morning.”

Alessandra looked around as if her friend were hidden behind a potted plant.