" Right away, Your Grace." Mr. Simmons said as he bowed his head deeply, his crisp white hair catching the morning light as he backed away from the large desk. He turned smoothly on his heel and left the room, the door clicking softly shut behind him.
The moment the door was completely closed, the tense, serious atmosphere in the study shattered entirely.
Rowan stood up from his leather chair. He did not simply rise; he moved with a sudden, bursting energy that completely ignored the dull ache and the healing wound on his head. A bright, brilliant smile broke across his face, reaching all the way to his vivid brown eyes.
He walked around the edge of the desk and went straight toward his brother-in-law.
Before Carcel could even ask what was happening, Rowan wrapped his large arms around the Duke of a Carleton. He hugged Carcel with pure, unadulterated happiness, hitting his back with soft, rhythmic taps.
