The one you marry isn't always the one you should trust . . .
Wesley smiled to himself; it felt good finally to be in control of his family home. By God, he'd waited long enough for this day, and now it was here.
He breathed in heavily and looked once more out of the window. The view was grand, the sun shone clear, and playful beams filtered through the new leaves of the sycamore tree at the end of the garden. It was going to be a good day, despite a death in the family. It had been expected, and no one should cry over someone who had reached that age. After breakfast he would ride around his inheritance; not that he didn't know every inch of it already, but now it was his, and that made all the difference.
A cosy read that feels perfect for the winter months. Set in the Yorkshire Dales, this story is atmospheric and even a little heart-breaking
