Meara Platt

“I did not want anyone’s pity. Not then, nor do I want it now. Samuel and I shared two decades together, an entire childhood and several years of adulthood. We were to marry when he returned from battle. He never did. But I do not despair. This is more time than many couples are given. We shared more happiness in those years than most married couples are ever blessed with in a lifetime. We weren’t merely two hearts uniting. We were one heart, one soul. Once that heart was broken by his death, there was no putting it back together again.”
― Meara Platt, The Promise of Love

“One would expect that a man in his state would become sloppy and leave clues. I’ve searched for those clues in his study but found nothing. Not a scrap. Not a shred. Not a hint.” Danielle nibbled her lip. “What can we do to stop him? And I don’t mean shooting him.” Simon grunted. “I was only going to aim for his leg.” “And what do you think he would have done to you in return? Even if he did not retaliate, is there any doubt Uncle Josiah would?” She gently took the pistol out of his hand and set it aside. “We’ll think of something else.” Matthew knew it was time for him to step in before these siblings hatched some inept plot to thwart the elder Haverfields and got hurt in the process. “Lass, I want ye and yer brother to do nothing. Let me take care of it. The Crown is now aware of their activities. I found a cryptic note in a hidden pocket in Lord Pim’s vest. Lord Manning’s men are working on deciphering it as we speak. We dinna know the specifics yet, but will soon discover all we need to know, including who is supplying their funds.” Danielle frowned. “If you know all this already, then why are you here? What can Simon possibly tell you that you would not soon find out anyway?” Simon patted her head. “Don’t be a goose, Danny. He’s here for you.” “He is not.” She stared down at her toes rather than meet Matthew’s gaze. “Lord Lyon does not care for me. He was pretending in order to get close to our family. I’m just an assignment to him. Nothing more.” Her brother cast Matthew an anxious glance. “She’s wrong, isn’t she? You have to love her. You led me to believe it. You admitted it. Are you that cold a bastard?” “Yes, he is,” Danielle blurted before he could fashion a reply. He silently cursed their situation. Even if he protested, she was not yet ready to believe him. “Aye, it was just a mission at first. But ye know it is much more now. Ye canno’ fault me for protecting the Crown. Simon, surely ye understand the truth even if yer sister will not yet accept it.” “Damn,” Simon muttered. “I don’t fault you, Matthew. I believe you care for my sister. This is all my”
― Meara Platt, Kiss of the Lyon