I wasn’t expecting to meet him like that. When I’d received the call from a Keeper that my intended was at the station I wasn’t sure what to do. Ideally my father should have taken the call, but he was off at the train station, where he was to pick my intended up. How had he ended up in a Keeper’s custody?
I pulled on my sensible navy wool driving coat over my practical lavender day dress, checked to make sure my driving goggles were still in my reticule, and summoned our driver to take me to the station. Belatedly I cursed my foolishness and had the butler send for a public car. It would not do for me to arrive at the station in a hackney cab.
He was sitting in the chair with a Keeper standing at his back.
“You must be Mr. Garrison.”
“John.” He inclined his head with no trace of a smile. If I stared at his whiskerless cheeks, I could ignore the drying blood on his shirtsleeves. He looked at ease sitting under the watchful gaze of the Keeper. (more…)