Chapter 12
Anne had developed a painful habit of handwringing by the time she and Cedric arrived at the Sheridan estate on the outskirts of Brighton. Rushton Steading, the vast ancestral home of the Sheridan family, was intimidating. The estate was mainly wooded areas where dark copses of trees hunkered down at the road’s edge like silent sentinels. Anne drew in a shocked breath as their traveling coach rounded the nearest outcropping of forest and her new world opened up before her. The house itself was a grand mansion made of white stone, a bright beacon amidst the heavy emerald backdrop.
“Do you like it?” Cedric’s voice was soft against her neck as he breathed in her scent.
Anne couldn’t help but admire the multi-windowed edifice. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I can see why
