Surprised, Charles lifted her up. “Thank you,” he said, looking into her face. Her large green eyes
seemed to sparkle naturally with a winsome smile that curved into dimples on each cheek. Her hair, the color of honey, was artfully swept up and tied with ribbon.
“You have agreed to marry my son,” he said, stating it aloud more for his own benefit than hers.
“I have,” she said, smiling prettily.
“And your stepfather? What is his opinion? As he has not been to call, I can only surmise he is quite pleased.”
“My stepfather is not as yet aware, your grace. He is in France and won’t return for another week or so.
”
That was a bit startling, for he would have assumed Jared spoke to the man before speaking to Lady
Ava. But then again, he knew that times were changing —the formality of these matches was not nearly as rigid as that of his youth. “Well,” he said, smili ng charitably as he gestured for them to sit. “There will be plenty of time to gain his permission, won’t there?”
“I don’t know,” she said uncertainly. “I don’t think he shall return before we are married.” Charles stopped in his move to a chair and stare d at the young woman. “I beg your pardon?” “We are to be married next week,” Jared said.
His chest constricted around his heart. “Next week?” he echoed. “I haven’t heard of this!”
“We have only just decided and have come to tell you.” Jared spoke so easil y, so coolly, that it angered Charles. His son smiled serenely, and the smile struck Charles with a disquieting thought—his son hated him.
“Might I inquire as to why the rush to the altar, as if I can’t already surmise?”
“There is nothing to surmise,” Jared said, his smile fading. “But we saw no reason to delay it…do you?” “It’s absolutely scandalous!” Charles said, barely able to control his anger. “The entire ton will think your
fiancée is with child!”
“She is not, sir. And we will be at Broderick Abbey, away from the gossips who feed such rumors.”
“I hardly care where you will be, sir. There will be talk,” Charles said sharply.
“I beg your pardon, your grace…”
Startled by the interruption, Charles jerked his gaze to Lady Ava. “I…I wanted to go forth,” she said uncertainly.
Jared looked at her with surprise and then chuckled, whether only to annoy his father or because she amused him, Charles could not be sure. But he turned fully to face his would-be daughter-in-law. “I scarcely care, Lady Ava. To marry so quickly is vulgar.”
She blinked her wide green eyes at him, then glanced at Jared. “My fiancée is being kind,” he said. “It was entirely my idea and she has graciously agreed. It is best for us.”
Charles angrily turned away from his irreverent son, frustrated, appalled, and furious. “I want this abomination stopped.”
He heard Lady Ava’s soft gasp, but his son said clearly, “No, your grace. We are committed.”
He jerked around and pinned Jared with a hot look. “How dare you flaunt your impertinence—”
“We are not flaunting,” Jared said calmly. “We would keep this a private matter, with only family and a few dear friends attending. And you, if it pleases you.”
That stopped him. As tumultuous as the subject of marriag e and heirs had been between them, Charles
was stirred by the prospect of seeing his only child marry. He glanced at the pretty young woman beside
him, who had not collapsed with shock and dismay as he would have expected given the tender constitution of women in general, but looked rather hopeful.
He frowned. Looked her up and down. “Is there any reason to expect you are not capable of conceiving
or giving birth?” he asked bluntly.
“Your grace!” Jared protested hotly, but Charles stopped him by lifting a hand. “It is a legitimate question.”
“No, your grace,” Lady Ava said quickly, her hand going to Jared’s to still him, her porcelain cheeks stained pink.
Charles sighed. “And when mi ght I be subjected to this abomination of a wedding?”
“Next Friday morning,” Jared said tightly.
A lump of something—regret, disappointment perhaps —formed in Charles’s gullet, but he swallowed it down. He looked at Lady Ava once more. She was a sturdy girl , not one given to vapors, he imagined. “ Very well, then. I shall witness.”
One of Jared’s brows lifted above the other. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
“Now go,” Charles said irritably, and turned away from them again, unable to comprehend why he felt so utterly dejected at that moment.
He heard a bit of whispering, then heard them quit the room. For a long time after they’d gone, he stood
at the window, looking out over Hyde Park. And then he retired to his desk, took a hand portrait of
Jared’s mother from the bottom drawer and gazed at it.
And he hoped, with every fiber of his being, that Jared would at least find the happiness that had eluded him with Jared’s mother.
T he morning Jared took his intended and her retinue to Broderick Abbey pa ssed quickly—they were only a half hour away from his home when Jared realized it, he’d been so lost in thought.
He glanced at Ava and her sister, both of whom had slipped into naps when their idle chatter could no longer sustain the three of them, being the strangers they really were. It had occurred to him, on the long ride home, that he did hold some affection for Ava —but the thought of marrying her still shocked him. It
seemed quite unreal to him that he was on the verge of committing himself for all t ime, and moreover, to a woman he scarcely knew. In spite of being attracted to her, in spite of the way she appealed to him in
some primal way, he could not help feeling trapped. He was about to be chained forever to a life he did not want and had never so ught until his father had forced it on him.
The carriage turned up a familiar, tree -lined road that led to the abbey entrance. This was the point in the journey Jared normally felt a sense of peace wash over him. His estate was the one place on earth he
was free of his father’s criticism, the one place he was free to live as he pleased. Today, however, he felt nothing but a sense of dread, almost as if his father had somehow managed to invade Broderick Abbey.
Another mile and the road widened beneath tall, towering oak trees, meticulously manicured, which provided a dramatic entrance to the abbey grounds. What was left of the medieval abbey had been
swallowed up by Georgian architecture; his home stretched long on either side of what had been the
abbey, four stories high and U -shaped around lawns and gardens that were the envy of many a nobleman.
Jared nudged Ava; her eyes fluttered open and she smiled sleepily, pushed herself up, and yawned as she stretched her back like a cat.
“We are home,” he said, surreptitiously admiring her slender form as she stretched.
“Home,” she repeated dreamily —but then her eyes sparked. “Broderick Abbey?” she asked excitedly, and leaned across her sister to see out the window .
The forest was thick along the road. It was a fact that Broderick Abbey had some of the finest hunting in
all of England, and it was precisely because Jared had kept the forests as pristine as possible. The coach rounded a corner, and the lake came into view, stocked with trout and pike. On the far end of the lake,
he could see a part of the herd of cattle he raised at Broderick Abbey. It was ironic, really, for the
Broderick fortune had been made on sheep trading in Europe centuries ago. His father still raised sheep on his estate; Jared raised cattle.
“What’s that?” Ava asked as Phoebe roused from her nap and joined Ava in looking out the window. She was pointing at the old Bridget Castle ruins that still marked a hill on his estate.
“That was once the home of my mother’s ancestors. They were ousted by the Yorks.” He glanced at the ruins and saw a young boy atop a mound of rocks, waving as the coach sped by, and felt his heart skip a beat.
Ava laughed with the enthusiasm of a young girl at a circus as they rolled past fields where workers were cutting hay, stone cisterns used to store rainwater, more cattle, a few sheep, and stacks of hay. “Perhaps
I should have asked after your family history, sir, for my father’s family ancestors were on the side of the
Lancasters,” she said, referring to the medieval Wars of the Roses. “I hadn’
t—oh!” she exclaimed, losing her train of thought as the stone gates marking the entrance to the grounds
of Broderick Abbey came into view.
He supposed that there were any number of things they should have asked one another before coming here.
“Oh, Ava,” Phoebe said reverently. “It’s beautiful.” A few moments later, they sailed through the gates
and around a stand of trees, pulling to a halt in front of the ivy-covered arched entry that led into a small garden courtyard before the main entry.
The carriage rumbled to a halt, then listed slightly as the footmen clambered down. Jared leaned forward
to see through to the courtyard and the dou ble oak doors of the entry as they swung open.
As the
footmen put a bench down and opened the door of the coach, a string of servants came running out of
the house, the women in the familiar gray gowns and white aprons, the men in standard Broderick livery
of black and gold. And of course, his butler, Dawson, who was quickly lining up the staff by rank to greet the marquis and the woman who would be his wife and their mistress.
A footman from the house stepped in front of one covered by the grime of the ro ad and held up his hand
to Ava. She hesitated slightly, glanced at Jared as Phoebe helped her on with her coat, then shifted her gaze to the assembled servants, who were all peering around one another to see her. With a noticeable draw of breath, she gave her hand to the footman and stepped down. And she proceeded to shake out
the skirts of her traveling gown, avoiding the curious gazes of the staff as she waited for Jared.
He followed Phoebe out and offered Ava his arm. She glanced up, to his neckcloth, before lifting her gaze to his, where he could see the consternation in her eyes. He understood her uneasiness —it was a
big house with a big staff, much larger than what he assumed she was accustomed to. He gave her what
he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I have long admired your courage. Do not let it desert you now,” he urged her, and dipped his head to see her better, nodding almost indiscernibly to the staff. “They will certainly respect you more if you show them no fear.”
Lady Ava pressed her lips firml y together. “Right you are,” she muttered, then gave him a resolute nod and put a hand on his arm. He led her into the courtyard, where he began the introductions to her new
staff by introducing her to his butler. “Lady Ava Fairchild,” he said, “please all ow me to introduce you to my butler, Mr. Dawson.”
Dawson instantly bowed at the waist, and Ava extended her hand. “I’ve heard quite a lot of good things about you, and it is my great pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Bloody hell if old Dawson didn’t l ook a bit surprised. He was accustomed to people like Miranda, who had a bad habit of sweeping past him as if he did not exist. The butler smiled at Ava and inclined his
head. “The pleasure, my lady, is most assuredly mine.”
“You’ll show me about, will you, Mr. Dawson? The abbey is overwhelmingly enormous, and I am certain
I shall be lost.”
“It shall be an honor,” Dawson said, clearly pleased to be asked.
Jared next turned to Miss Hillier, his erstwhile housekeeper, and once , a long time ago, his nursemaid.
Miss Hillier smiled warmly, as if she wanted to take him in her arms like a mother. In truth, she had been
the only mother he’d known for the first ten years of his life. Unfortunately, Miss Hillier still had a tendency to be too motherly.
Jared put his hand on the small of Ava’s back. “Lady Ava, my fiancée,” he said, and to Ava, “Allow me
to introduce Miss Hillier, our housekeeper.”
Miss Hillier turned a beaming smile to her new mistress. “Oh my, how lovely you are, my lady.”
Ava blushed self-consciously. “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Hillier. I shall need your expert assistance to guide me through my duties as mistress of such a very grand house.”
And on down the line they went, meeting the staff t hat kept Broderick Abbey functioning. The footmen,
the housemaids. The cook and scullery maids. The groundsmen, including the gardener and his men, and
the stable hands, the game manager. There were three dozen of them, a veritable army.
And Ava greeted each and every one with a word and what seemed like an honest expression of interest
in what they did. Moreover, Jared noticed, she touched their hands, their elbows, their shoulders, looked them squarely in the eye and smiled. It was no wonder that the staff members were all gazing rather approvingly at his intended bride, for which, Jared realized, he was relieved and pleased. Broderick
Abbey was his treasure; the staff and their satisfaction with their employment were important to him. He had not reali zed how important until this moment.
They proceeded inside, with several of the staff running ahead to open rooms for his inspection. Dawson instructed two footmen to have their trunks brought in, and the cook to have the tea readied.
“Miss Hillier, if you will please show the ladies to their suite of rooms,” Jared said as they entered the
foyer and he helped Ava remove her pelisse. “When they are ready, I shall meet them for luncheon in the west dining room.”
“Very good, my lord.” Mis s Hillier gestured for Ava and Phoebe to come along.
With another anxious glance at Jared over her shoulder, Ava, in the company of her sister, who had yet
to take her eyes from the walls and ceiling, dutifully followed Miss Hillier, taking in the surroundings as they went.
Jared handed his hat to Dawson.
“If I may, my lord?” Dawson asked. “Yes?”
“Felicitations on your upcoming nuptials. She’s bonny, if you don’t mind me saying.”