A further rummaging through the kitchens unearthed a tin of gingerbread and a box of candied apricots. So much for the latest alterations to her wedding gown. Carrying her plate into the front salon, where a fire burned high and bright, she sought respite from her whirlwind thoughts in a comfortable wing chair with the final chapters of The Baron of Falconberg open in front of her. But no amount of drama between the pages or sugarcoated joy dulled her mind’s mad spinning. Tomorrow she would marry Gordon. No second thoughts. No backing down. She refused to experience the mortification of another broken engagement. She’d lived through the horrid tittle-tattle and sidelong stares once before. She’d not survive them a second time. Yet, Brendan’s unexpected appearance had exposed some ugly and uncomfortable truths. Pieces of her heart still belonged to the brilliant, mercurial boy of her youth. He’d exploded into her world again, stirring to life long-buried hopes, and just as abruptly vanished in an eerie duplication of his disappearance seven years ago.
