settlement were signed, within six months the baron would be right back where he was at the momentâin need of funds. Only then, Andrew would be obliged to marry that plain child at the time and place of their fathersâ choosing.
He reined his horse to a walk and stared out at the green valley he loved. In the distance to the south, he could see the villages of Westbury and Wookey where heâd spent so much time. This was his home and had been for generations of his family before him. Heâd always thought that he would live, marry, produce his heir, and die here. Had his father robbed him of his legacy with his excessive gaming?
At the thought of his own marriage, his fatherâs warning echoed in his head. Would Squire Amberly really refuse to allow him to pay his addresses to Mariah? A flash of memory from the spring Horse Fair filled his mind. The old squire had followed behind Lord Chesterfield, one of the wealthiest landowners in this part of the county, and behaved like the manâs servant instead of a country gentleman.
An overwhelming desire to see Mariah rose in him. He would not be denied his true love by his father or hers. He would elope, take her to Gretna and marry over the anvil. But as that image seeped into his brain, his lip curled in distaste. Perhaps it was his age that made him see life as black and white and such a shoddy, scandalous marriage was not for him and his Mariah. Besides, he hadnât enough money to hire a carriage and horses, much less to pay for inns and marriage.
A wave of despair washed over Andrew and he sagged in the saddle, a gesture his horse interpreted as a signal to stop. The lad sat in the middle of the road, his dark thoughts gripping him. His father was right. Mariah wouldnât be allowed to marry him, and the very thought made him ill. A title would not be enough to sway the squire. There were easily five men in the neighborhood with fortunes and titles. Squire Amberly would never allow Andrew near her with his pockets to let.
Pain radiated through his chest as that truth struck him hard. He ground his teeth in frustration. But his youth helped him to rally and he soon determined there had to be a way. He must have funds before he could present himself as Miss Amberlyâs suitor. Not just funds, but a fortune of his own since his father was like a giant hole in the ground that sucked up every cent that came within his reach.
Andrewâs eyes narrowed as he put his mind to the problem. How did an English gentleman make money except from his land? The very thought of trade made a chill race over him. Nothing would put a period to his hopes with Mariah more than to have her father discover that the future Lord Rowland had soiled his hands in such a manner.
His gaze drifted west toward Bristol Channel, some fifteen miles away. He remembered his last trip to the coast before his mother had died, when heâd sat and watched white sails of ships going about their business. Heâd longed to experience great adventure back then, but everything had changed. His eyes widened as an idea took root. There was only one way to avoid this betrothal and earn the funds he needed. He would have to leave.
Where did everyone go to get rich? India! His hands tightened on the reins. That was it, he would go to India and make his fortune. For the first time that day, a smile tipped his mouth.
But first he must secure Mariahâs pledge to wait for him. She must know that he would do all this for her. Full of romantic notions and convinced that he had come up with the perfect solution to his dilemma, he set off for Amberly Court, determined to have a private conversation with his beloved.
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Despite the dayâs excitement, Jacinda slept soundly. Trudy shook her awake just after five. She was quickly dressed in her blue velvet gown with a white lace collar that Aunt Devere had brought back from London last fall. Jacindaâs hair was brushed
He reined his horse to a walk and stared out at the green valley he loved. In the distance to the south, he could see the villages of Westbury and Wookey where heâd spent so much time. This was his home and had been for generations of his family before him. Heâd always thought that he would live, marry, produce his heir, and die here. Had his father robbed him of his legacy with his excessive gaming?
At the thought of his own marriage, his fatherâs warning echoed in his head. Would Squire Amberly really refuse to allow him to pay his addresses to Mariah? A flash of memory from the spring Horse Fair filled his mind. The old squire had followed behind Lord Chesterfield, one of the wealthiest landowners in this part of the county, and behaved like the manâs servant instead of a country gentleman.
An overwhelming desire to see Mariah rose in him. He would not be denied his true love by his father or hers. He would elope, take her to Gretna and marry over the anvil. But as that image seeped into his brain, his lip curled in distaste. Perhaps it was his age that made him see life as black and white and such a shoddy, scandalous marriage was not for him and his Mariah. Besides, he hadnât enough money to hire a carriage and horses, much less to pay for inns and marriage.
A wave of despair washed over Andrew and he sagged in the saddle, a gesture his horse interpreted as a signal to stop. The lad sat in the middle of the road, his dark thoughts gripping him. His father was right. Mariah wouldnât be allowed to marry him, and the very thought made him ill. A title would not be enough to sway the squire. There were easily five men in the neighborhood with fortunes and titles. Squire Amberly would never allow Andrew near her with his pockets to let.
Pain radiated through his chest as that truth struck him hard. He ground his teeth in frustration. But his youth helped him to rally and he soon determined there had to be a way. He must have funds before he could present himself as Miss Amberlyâs suitor. Not just funds, but a fortune of his own since his father was like a giant hole in the ground that sucked up every cent that came within his reach.
Andrewâs eyes narrowed as he put his mind to the problem. How did an English gentleman make money except from his land? The very thought of trade made a chill race over him. Nothing would put a period to his hopes with Mariah more than to have her father discover that the future Lord Rowland had soiled his hands in such a manner.
His gaze drifted west toward Bristol Channel, some fifteen miles away. He remembered his last trip to the coast before his mother had died, when heâd sat and watched white sails of ships going about their business. Heâd longed to experience great adventure back then, but everything had changed. His eyes widened as an idea took root. There was only one way to avoid this betrothal and earn the funds he needed. He would have to leave.
Where did everyone go to get rich? India! His hands tightened on the reins. That was it, he would go to India and make his fortune. For the first time that day, a smile tipped his mouth.
But first he must secure Mariahâs pledge to wait for him. She must know that he would do all this for her. Full of romantic notions and convinced that he had come up with the perfect solution to his dilemma, he set off for Amberly Court, determined to have a private conversation with his beloved.
Â
Â
Despite the dayâs excitement, Jacinda slept soundly. Trudy shook her awake just after five. She was quickly dressed in her blue velvet gown with a white lace collar that Aunt Devere had brought back from London last fall. Jacindaâs hair was brushed