A Man's Guilt, A Woman's Saving Grace 2

A Man's Guilt, A Woman's Saving Grace

Part One

Chapter Two

In short, Micheal Warwick was irritable. His day had begun well enough; a light breakfast in the lounge followed by the visitation of a few business acquaintances, after which he retired to his study, going over some necessary papers and calculations. Rifling through a stack of letters a certain name had caught his attention, and since then he had not been able to collect his thoughts. Which irritated him.

He was now seated by the window, gazing out into a wintry front lawn overshadowed by a row of stately evergreens. The snow had covered nearly everything, continuing to fall thickly and slowly across the whole of England's countryside. It helped to distract him from more confusing pursuits, muting the raucous activity in his mind as it did to the once-green hills. It soothed him.

Yet he could not be bothered to relax for long. At some point he would have to return to the explosion of paperwork that sat so conspicuously on his desk and the glaring letter with it. The letter on which was printed a single name, a name that caused him to loosen his necktie a bit and wish it were a tad cooler. Ridiculous.

He thought as much, turning from the white portal to the glowing interior of his study. If it had been any other day earlier in his successful, business-filled life, he would normally have felt nothing but comfort at the sight of a crackling fire casting a soft glow on numerous bookshelves that lined the walls. Now there was only a slight tension, one that could not be easily broken yet still had the ability to be felt.

He approached his worktable, the letter so obviously peeking out behind a thick, scribbled-in log. It slid aside at the touch of his smooth hand, which then, nearly trembling, retrieved it, holding it in front of himself to examine. How long he studied the neat, black lettering he couldn't say, but after what seemed like an eternity he carefully picked up a letter opener and sliced the thing open, its guts spilling into his palm. He gulped subconsciously, his insides in a tornado of bedlam, yet, if one had been spying, seemed completely at ease, a stoic gentleman going over the correspondence one involved in business was expected to review. Slender fingers opened the crisp paper, and his icy eyes scanned it quickly, eager to debunk the mysteries of its contents.

A brief space of complete silence followed the reading of the letter. It was as though he had run smack into a brick wall and was left quietly wondering why he had run into the thing in the first place while at the same time attempting to recover from the pain that hard rocks set in mortar could deal to an unprotected head. He stayed trained on the last bit, especially, the line that read, "We would truly enjoy your presence at this most important occasion, which will hopefully result in profitable exploits for all involved." It was the "truly enjoy your presence" part that he liked the most, but, on top of that, it was the individual who had more than likely written those words which caught his interest.

Instead of the contemplative quiet previously known to his mental state, chaos ensued, and he found himself needing to take a seat in his high-backed chair. Of course he would be attending the meeting. He knew it in his heart that, even though he was probably too busy or had better things to bide his time with, he would go. Oh, how inevitable the pull of fate seemed. He sighed, a smile creeping onto his peachy lips, head resting on the red leather as the fire turned to ashes.