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Back Where The Story Starts Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. CONTENTS
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS
  64. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  65. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

‘Well, that’s just silly,’ said Grace, shaking her head. ‘I’m lucky that I inherited all this . . .’ She waved her arms around vaguely. ‘But that’s all it is – luck. I’ve never done anything to earn it. It just got handed to me on a plate. You mustn’t think badly of yourself just because your family background is different to mine.’

Charles pulled a face, twisting his mouth into a wry smile, and Grace felt herself relax a little more. This was more like her Charles.

‘You haven’t heard the worst of it yet,’ he said, raising his eyebrows at her. ‘My family were nothing like yours. Let’s see how you feel when you’ve heard the whole thing, shall we?’

30

30

GRACE – THEN

So, Charles had a secret about his family, thought Grace. How intriguing. She realised that she was holding her breath as she waited for him to tell her what it was. How bad can it be, she wondered, and what would it matter anyway? Maybe his family was a little more colourful than he had let on. That was hardly something to be ashamed of. There were a couple of characters in her own family tree that history had attempted to bury. Her father had once told her that the 7th baron had been tried for murder, but he’d had such a twinkle in his eye as he’d told her that Grace had never quite believed him. But whatever it was that Charles was about to tell her would make no difference to how she felt about him, she knew that for certain.

She watched as her husband picked up his fork, pushed the pasta round his plate and then put it back down again.

‘I need to tell you about Ray,’ he said finally.

Grace smiled in what she hoped was an encouraging way, and waited.

‘He’s my half-brother, like I said,’ repeated Charles. ‘The one I never mentioned to you.’

He stretched his mouth into a grimace but Grace was no longer interested in all the build-up. She just wanted the story.