Bound By The Christmastide Moon – Christina McKnight (1)

Not at all. His first meeting with Lady Mallory had been disastrous, to say the least. The girl had nearly fainted at the sight of him, and her aunt had stared daggers the entire visit. His betrothed was comely, in an innocent maiden sort of way, demure, and reserved. Besides her moment of lightheadedness that had nearly called for salts, she seemed relatively ordinary. Certainly, her cloudy, grey eyes were worrisome, but nothing else caused his hair to stand on end.

Now, she could return to her family home, and he could go about his business. At the moment, Silas waited for his business to summon him. He had no doubt his aunt would send for him at some point, if for no other reason than pure curiosity. Until that happened—and he prayed it was before Slade arrived in Bocka Morrow—Silas would prioritize his needs: meal, drink, and sleep. Unfortunately, with the added coin given to the groom, his funds were thinner than before.

Glancing about the room, Silas envied a group of men sitting around a low wooden table, its surface scarred but ladened with fresh, crusty bread, poached fish, and cheeses. His stomach rebelled at the sight. For now, ale in a filthy mug would have to do. He must needs save his coin for his evening meal and a proper bath before journeying to the castle to meet his long-lost family.

The warm ale slid easily down his throat to appease his stomach, and Silas attempted to block out the carousing and laughter of the tavern’s other occupants. He wondered if anyone in Bocka Morrow actually earned a decent living as they were all solidly in their cups at such an early hour of the day.

At the thought, Silas drained his glass and signaled for another. If he were going to crash and burn—with both his betrothed and his mother’s family—he might as well be deep in his cups to soften the impact. The form in which the impact would come was unknown; however, there was no doubt he’d survive it.

Lady Mallory could discover he was a pauper without familial ties in England. Or, debatably worse, his aunt would give him the cut direct and banish him from Castle Keyvnor. Either way, the scandalous information would make the gossip rags, and the Marquess of Blandford would call off the betrothal—as he had every right to do.

Copyright © 2018 by Christina McKnight Cover Image by Period Images Cover Design by Sweet n’ Spicy Designs All rights reserved. ISBN-13: 978-1-945089-40-4 La Loma Elite Publishing All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below. [email protected] 1kitap1.com/en For Marc ~ Luck brought us together…but LOVE binds us. 1kitap1.com/en S PR OLO GU E Ditchley Hall, Southampton, England June 1811 ilas Anson, the eighth Earl of Lichfield, glared across the vast, disorderly expanse of what he’d recently come to view as his desk, not the unfamiliar, cluttered stretch of flat surface that had once belonged to his father.

A man he barely remembered and could not conjure in his mind. On the receiving end of Silas’s scowl was none other than Mr. Horace Peabody, Esquire. The solicitor had also come with the Lichfield title and estate. Though Silas silently debated which was of lesser value to him: his non- existent heritance or his father’s trusted advisor.

“You are telling me—“ Silas clamped his mouth shut, pondering and discarding his next statement as overly crass and unwarranted, no matter the validity of it. “You are telling me I was summoned back to England, ripped from my home in France, to inherit a title and estate so entrenched in debt that ruination can only be staved off for a month’s time?” Mr. Peabody, who surprisingly in no way resembled a pea of any sort, stared mutely at Silas from behind his rounded spectacles, his hands clenched on the stack of folders in his lap.

Did the man realize how cliché he appeared? Glasses, ink-stained fingers, nerves so frazzled he shook, and the piles of paperwork. Lord above, the man had arrived with an entire forest’s worth of the stuff. One could only imagine the mines exploited to collect the graphite needed to scribble all the nonsense that’d been presented to Silas.

And the solicitor had appeared anxious since his arrival. “This plan you’ve so graciously detailed for me is the only viable option you have been able to ascertain for rescuing the Lichfield name?”

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 1d4e3141f9473d4c
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 1,057,063 bytes (1.008 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• ISBN: 9781945089404
• Pages: 105
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 161.93 minutes
• Total Words: 32,386
• Total Characters: 183,873
• Average Words per Page: 308.44
• Average Characters per Page: 1751.17

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