“I’M STILL A MAN… YOU THINK I CAN’T DO THIS?” THE WHEELCHAIR-BOUND DUKE WHISPERED TO HIS BRIDE

Chapter 2

Three days later she stood on a platform at King’s Cross beneath a sky the colour of wet slate, waiting to board a private saloon carriage bound north.

A woman waited beside the door. Tall, broad-shouldered, somewhere near fifty, with the unmistakable bearing of someone who ran a household rather than merely lived in one.

“Miss Goodwin. I am Mabel Fitzpatrick, housekeeper of Thornwick Hall, and on occasion its conscience.”

Lily managed a tired smile. “I understand I ought to be grateful for the escort.”