Loving a Lost Lord Read Free

Ashton deserves our best efforts.”
    â€œThen it’s decided, gentlemen. You may spend the rest of the night here and take fresh mounts from my stables.” Lady Agnes rose and caught their gazes, one after the other. Voice steely, she commanded, “And if Adam is alive, I expect you to bring him home! ”

Chapter Two
    Cumberland, Northwest England
Two months earlier
    By the time her tour of the house reached the drawing room, Mariah Clarke was giddy with happiness. “It’s wonderful!” She spun in a circle with her arms out and her blond hair flying as if she were six years old, rather than a grown woman.
    Her father, Charles, moved to the window to admire the Irish Sea, which glinted along the western edge of the estate. “Finally we have a home. One worthy of you.” He glanced at her fondly. “As of today, you are Miss Clarke of Hartley Manor.”
    Miss Clarke of Hartley Manor. That sounded rather intimidating. It was time to start acting like a young lady. She straightened and tied a loose knot in her long hair so she would look closer to her twenty-five years. Like Sarah. As a child, she had often been alone, so she’d imagined that she had a twin sister called Sarah, who was always available to play. Always loyal. The perfect friend.
    Sarah was also a perfect lady, which Mariah wasn’t. If Sarah were real, she would be impeccably dressed with never a hair out of place. There would be no missing buttons or grass stains from sitting on a lawn. She would always ride sidesaddle, never shocking the countryside by riding astride. She would be able to charm everyone from cranky infants to curmudgeonly colonels. “I shall have to learn the art of supervising a large household. Can we afford more servants? The three here aren’t really enough for an establishment this size.”
    He nodded. “The same card game where I won Hartley Manor also yielded a nice amount of money. With care there will be enough to staff the estate properly and make improvements. If the manor is managed well, it will produce a respectable income.”
    Mariah frowned, not liking the reminder of how her father had acquired the manor. “The gentleman who lost the estate, was he left destitute?”
    â€œGeorge Burke comes from a wealthy family, so he won’t starve.” Charles shrugged. “He shouldn’t have gambled if he couldn’t afford to lose.”
    Though she could not be as dismissive of Burke’s fate as her father, she didn’t pursue the subject. As a small child, she’d lived with her great-grandmother, who had gypsy blood. After Granny Rose’s death, Charles had taken Mariah with him everywhere. Though she loved her father, she’d never enjoyed their life on the road, where his charm and skill at cards had produced a sometimes erratic living.
    When Charles’s wallet was particularly flat, Mariah had told fortunes at village fairs, a skill she’d learned from her grandmother. Mariah couldn’t see the future, but she was good at reading people, so they left feeling happier about their lives and prospects.
    Fortune-telling was not a pursuit that Miss Clarke of Hartley Manor would ever admit to! Luckily, she wouldn’t have to do that again. “I’ll look for the estate account books so I’ll understand our finances better.”
    â€œMy practical little girl,” Charles said with amusement. “You’ll have this place in order in no time.”
    â€œI certainly hope so.” She pulled a holland cloth cover off the nearest piece of furniture, revealing a wing chair upholstered in blue brocade. Like most of the furniture left in the house, it was worn but serviceable. Every room and wall had gaps where George Burke had removed the more valuable pieces. No matter—furniture and paintings could always be replaced. “With so few servants, neither house nor garden were as well cared for as one might