Read The Dead London Chronicles: Vol I, June 2016 Page 2
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What became of that boy who balanced on the cliff edge, Robert Faulkner could not say. Of the fate of the girl who did not return for Christmas nor another summer, nor see Scotland ever again, he could be more certain. Alice Tyhurst, the girl he knew from before he knew anything, the girl he loved and never told, had grown up that very year into Lady Alice Brandenburg, wife to a man far above the society doctor Robert Faulkner had since become. Now, with fifteen years from that kiss to tonight, he had lost that boy and his broken heart somewhere in time, somewhere on his travels, and he hoped never to see him again.
Why he had fallen into memories of the past as he approached Mishael de Chastelaine's country residence, Faulkner had no idea, but the past was not a place he wanted to be. As his carriage rolled to a halt he took a deep breath and composed himself into the dour, respectable man he had become.