Chapters (52)
- Born Out of Wedlock
- Dedication
- Table of Contents
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-One
- Chapter Forty-Two
- Chapter Forty-Three
- Chapter Forty-Four
- Chapter Forty-Five
- Chapter Forty-Six
- Acknowledgements
- Other Titles by Author
His stomach announced itself with a hungry grumble, and rubbing his belly, he paused for a moment before tossing back the bedcovers. Glancing at the nurse to make sure she was still asleep, he slipped out of bed and stood on wobbly legs. Taking his cane from its place against the nightstand, he hobbled from the room without making a sound.
Robert looked up the hallway and rubbed his stubbly chin. Dimly lit and lengthy, the corridor was formidable, but when his stomach growled again, he grasped his cane firmly in his hand and limped up the hall. As he exited the east wing, Robert stopped and perused his surroundings before taking a few more steps, but when he came to the top of the stairs, he paled.
***
Addison went to the credenza to pour herself a scotch, but instead of leaving the room in search of ice cream to complete her evening routine, she flopped down in a wing-back chair and stared at the amber liquid in her glass.
In a silence seemingly more deafening than it had ever been before, a few hours earlier she had sat alone in the dining room to eat her dinner. There were no clinks of silverware against gold-rimmed china or sounds of culinary pleasure coming from the other end of the table, and when Addison got up to leave she found herself missing the obligatory farewell. She should have been happy, but she wasn’t. Why?
When did noise once obtrusive become expected, almost to the point of appreciation? Why had she allowed Joanna to chastise her with no rebuttal? And what was this connection between Joanna and her father that made it so unwavering?
Dismissing her concerns with a large swallow of scotch, Addison got to her feet and walked from the room. It was late, and she expected to be alone, so when she saw the old man sitting on the stairs, her forward momentum stopped with a jerk, sending the alcohol in her glass over the sides. “Shit!” she said, flicking the liquid off her hand.
Robert was as surprised as Addison, but disoriented and nervous, he did the only thing he could think of. Pretend he wasn’t afraid. “Who the hell are you!” he barked. “And what the hell are you doing in my house?”