Behind Annabel was a deep baritone voice that was both familiar and unsuited to the new life she was creating.
Her heart pounded more forcefully, already a drum against her ribs. She slowly turned, her eyes falling on a man standing at the building's entrance in a sharp suit.
His face brought back memories of her time spent with Carson.
Knowing that she had seen him previously. With a question in her eyes she remained motionless.
“Annabel?” he repeated himself.
There it was.
She thought of the name on his lips as a key turning in a lock.
“Jude?” she asked.
Jude Ashford.
The man Carson had laughed with at innumerable dinners, who had been a dependable friend and a fixture at the mansion.
Although he maintained his dignity, he was the one who had always appeared to be in Ca
