Penniless Until the Earl's Proposal
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Helen Dickson
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Revel in this Regency annoyance-to-lovers story, full of twists, turns and page-turning romance! From feuding neighbors… To a union at the altar? Having lost her fiancé to war, Lady Juliet Sinclair refuses to lose her home to her brother's gambling debts. She certainly wouldn't otherwise be contemplating a marriage offer from her arrogant yet infuriatingly attractive neighbor, the Earl of Ashleigh… If widower Marcus didn't need a mother for his beloved daughter, he wouldn't be proposing to outspoken Juliet, either. They cross swords whenever they meet, but his daughter immediately takes to her. Yet Marcus is discovering his new bride intrigues him in ways he hadn't expected… making their battle of wills even more thrilling!
Chapter One
It was a glorious May day. The sun had risen out of a broad expanse of opal mist, and scraps of cloud floated like spun gauze in the sky. Oak, ash, sycamore, cherry and lilac trees were bursting into full flower, and trumpet-headed daffodils and clusters of primroses were scattered throughout the park that belonged to the Sinclair family of Endcliffe House.
This was the day Lady Juliet Sinclair first set eyes on Marcus Cardell, the younger brother of the Earl of Cranswick. Seated in the trap, she slowed her pony to a more sedate trot. The park stretched out in shades of green and brown and grey. Stabs of sunlight between the clouds edged the colours in bright gilding. For those few short minutes as she travelled along, there was just her and her pony—no duties, no expectations, just a wonderful forgetfulness of all the trials and duties that awaited her back at Endcliffe House.
Juliet had set out to take Mrs Ruskin some freshly baked bread. With three children to feed and her husband unable to find employment, Rose Ruskin struggled daily to give them sustenance. A movement to her right caught her attention. She glimpsed a rider and horse galloping with exhilaration some distance away. Halting the pony, she paused to watch with interest the sheer might of the large bay horse and the energy of the claret-jacketed rider, seemingly at one with his mount. Directing her pony beneath some sheltering trees, she continued to watch until he had disappeared from sight.
With a flick of the reins, Juliet continued on her way, having a strong inkling as to the identity of the rider. He belonged to the gentry, that was for sure. She had heard that Marcus Cardell had taken up residence at Mulberry Hall, a property passed on to him by his mother, the dowager Countess of Cranswick. The house had been occupied by the Countess’s widowed brother, Lord John Sutherland, the Earl of Ashleigh, who had died when he had taken a tumble from his horse during a hunt two years back. Without offspring, the property had passed to his sister, whose eldest son was to inherit the Cardell ancestral estate in Sussex. The dowager countess handed over Mulberry Hall to her second son, Marcus Cardell, a military man. The title went with it, and Marcus Cardell had become Lord Cardell, the Earl of Ashleigh. Juliet assumed the gentleman she had seen must be him.
Rose Ruskin, a small brown-haired woman in her thirties, welcomed her warmly and invited her inside her spotlessly clean cottage. Juliet placed the basket of bread with the addition of some cold meats on the table, which was immediately scrutinised and exclaimed over by her three young daughters with great excitement.
‘Thank you, Lady Juliet,’ Rose said, gently shoving her daughters aside. ‘I am pleased to see you, and I am always grateful for the food you bring. Things are—difficult just now, with Joe unable to find work.’
‘I know that, Rose, and I like to think what I bring alleviates the difficulties you face. When my brother decides to come home, I will try and persuade him to find your husband some kind of employment on the estate.’
‘I can’t pretend that I won’t be pleased if you could do that. Joe’s at his wit’s end not knowing where to turn next—and now he’s been accused of poaching on the Mulberry Hall estate. I fear he is to be arrested at any time.’
‘And has he, Rose? Is there any truth in what he is accused of?’
Rose lifted her chin, and her voice when she spoke was adamant. ‘No, there is not. My Joe knows the punishment for poaching. He’s a proud man and knows it’s more than his life is worth to steal from another man’s property.’
‘That’s just as I thought.’ Juliet knew Joe Ruskin as a fine, upstanding and honest man, and she could not imagine him doing anything that was against the law. ‘Try not to worry, Rose. I will do what I can. I promise.’ Stepping outside, she was stopped in her tracks when she came face to face with the gentleman she had seen riding through the park striding across the yard, having tethered his horse to the gatepost. He presented a dark, forbidding figure, his grey breeches moulding to his muscular legs and thighs, his claret coat fitting his physique without a crease. His white shirt was open at his tanned throat, and his hair was as black as a panther’s pelt.
‘Can I be of help, sir?’
He looked at Juliet with cool disdain, his eyes, as they passed over her, condescending. ‘I am here to speak with Mrs Ruskin. It concerns her husband.’
Juliet was unsure whether to take this as information or an instruction to move out of the way. There was an authority and assuredness of his own infallibility in his look and his manner that she did not like. She thought she had never seen such a dark and dangerous face in her life. His eyes were light blue to be almost silver, glittering beneath scowling dark brows. His nose was straight and haughty, and those hooded eyes with their thick lashes were mesmerising. They seemed to glow, seemed to promise future delights. He exuded sensuality and animal magnetism, and she could well imagine that women would vie for his attention.
‘Mrs Ruskin is inside. I do so hope you don’t bring bad news, sir.’
He glanced at her and looked away again, as if she were a person of no consequence. ‘And you are?’
‘Juliet Sinclair,’ she answered amiably, though it almost choked her to be polite in the face of so much rudeness.
‘Well, Miss Sinclair—’
‘Lady Juliet Sinclair.’
This caught his attention and he looked at her again, one dark brow cocked.’
‘My, my,’ he remarked with an underlying sarcasm. ‘This just gets better and better. You are a relation of Richard Sinclair?’
‘He is my brother.’
‘Yes, of course he is. I remember meeting him in the long and distant past when I visited my aunt at Mulberry Hall. On the demise of your father, he is now Earl of Endcliffe, I believe.’
‘Yes, he is.’
‘Of Endcliffe House—although I hear he spends most of his time in London, squandering his time at the card tables, while the running of his estate is left to his steward. His tenants feel at liberty to poach game on my estate—while, it would appear, his sister plays lady bountiful,’ he said, eyeing the basket on the table, visible through the open doorway.’
Juliet’s face was a mask of indignation, her hands clenched, but when she spoke, she kept her anger in check, knowing she had to placate this insufferably arrogant lord if she was to plead Joe’s case and keep him out of the lock-up to await the magistrate’s pleasure.
‘If that is how you see me, then, yes, that is what I am. I do what I can, Lord Cardell.’
‘I do not recall introducing myself, yet you know who I am.’
‘You accused Mr Ruskin of poaching game on your estate, sir, so I assume you must be Lord Cardell.’
‘How perceptive you are, Lady Juliet.’ He looked at her hard for a moment longer before turning his attention to Mrs Ruskin, his gaze resting briefly on the three children standing as stiff as little soldiers in a row, their eyes wide and their mouths agape with fear in the face of this new threat in the shape of the all-powerful Lord Cardell to their young lives.
Juliet felt anger rising inside her on seeing the confusion and fear on the children’s young faces. Lord Cardell approached Mrs Ruskin.
‘May I speak with you, Mrs Ruskin?’
Rose bobbed an awkward curtsy. ‘You may, sir. Please step inside—but if it’s Joe you want to speak to, he isn’t here just now.’
‘That’s unfortunate,’ he said, stepping over the threshold into the kitchen. ‘Have you any idea as to his whereabouts? Apparently, he was seen by one of my keepers running off, having bagged a couple of hares.’
‘That would not be possible,’ Juliet said, quick to contradict him.
‘Oh?’ he said, turning his head to look at her once more. ‘And you would know that? Why not, pray? You are accusing my keeper of lying, are you, Lady Juliet?’
‘I’m afraid I am, Lord Cardell,’ she replied, facing him squarely. ‘You see, Mr Ruskin lost a leg in the Peninsular War. I imagine it is rather difficult trying to run on a wooden leg, wouldn’t you agree? So, either you have a very slow-moving keeper, sir, or he is lying. Which is it to be?’
Lord Cardell’s gaze remained fixed on her while he digested this piece of information and then looked back at Mrs Ruskin, clutching her youngest child to her skirts. ‘Lost a leg, you say?’
‘No, I say,’ Juliet countered firmly. ‘Mr Ruskin has been unable to find work due to his disability.’
‘He is your tenant, Lady Juliet. If, as you say, Mr Ruskin’s disability has prevented him finding work—’
‘Not prevented, Lord Cardell. He has tried. No one will employ him.’
‘Then as an act of generosity, could you not find some employment on your estate to suit his disability?’
Furiously, Juliet found her cheeks turning red. How she would like to tell this arrogant lord to go to the devil and mind his own business, but it would do Joe no good in the long run if she were to lose her temper. One of the girls had picked up on the mood inside the room and started to cry and shrank into the girl next to her.
‘Don’t cry, Mary,’ Juliet said gently. ‘Everything will be all right. I’m sure Lord Cardell doesn’t mean any harm to come to your father, and that it’s all one big misunderstanding.’
‘It most certainly is not,’ Lord Cardell stated coldly.
Juliet glared at him. ‘Do you have to do this in front of the children?’ she remarked haughtily. ‘Can you not see that your very tone and accusation against their father frightens them?’ She saw his shoulders stiffen and his eyes sliced over her. She could almost feel the effort he was exerting to keep his anger under control. The man had a ramrod posture and an aura of exacting discipline as he irritatingly slapped his boots with the crop in his gloved hand. She glanced at it as it tapped out a rhythm. ‘And do you have to do that? You act as if you are about to set about us all with your crop for some misdemeanour reported to you by your incompetent keeper without knowing the true facts.’
‘Might I remind you that neither do you, Lady Juliet.’
‘No, I do not, but unlike you—who was so quick to jump to conclusions and think the worst of Mr Ruskin, I am willing to give both men the benefit of the doubt until I have been made aware of them.’
Lord Cardell returned her gaze steadily, studying her as though she were some strange creature he had just uncovered. At least six feet four inches tall and with amazingly arresting light blue eyes he was a strikingly handsome man. Rugged strength was carved into every feature of his bronzed face, from his straight dark brows and nose to his firm and sensually moulded lips to the square, arrogant jut of his chin. To Juliet at that moment, he was also formidable, every line of his face set with disapproval.
Turning her back on him, Juliet settled her attention on the quietly weeping child. ‘Hush now, Mary. Lord Cardell will do you no harm—is that not so, Lord Cardell?’ she said, hoping for confirmation without looking at him.
‘Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.’ Looking at Mrs Ruskin, his expression softened slightly. ‘I apologise if my coming here has upset your daughters. That was not my intention. They are children—I have a daughter of my own, and I would not dream of harming her or frightening her in any way.’
‘Of course not, Lord Cardell, but they are sensitive souls. Anything that is said against Joe distresses them,’ said Rose.
‘Precisely,’ Juliet said, ‘and for that reason alone you should have more control over your temper.’
‘Then I will be on my way before I cause more upset.’ With a nod to Rose he went outside.
Juliet looked at the weeping child. ‘Come, Mary,’ she said as Lord Cardell strolled across the yard with a loose, confident stride, looking as though he owned the place. ‘Dry your tears. Lord Cardell did not mean to frighten you.’
Her words seemed to calm the child, not because she was able to believe them but because of the unselfish confidence of the lady uttering them. Raising her head, she smiled at Juliet, but her shoulders remained drooped in dejection. Juliet fished a handkerchief out of her pocket and went to the unhappy girl. ‘Here, let me wipe your face.’ Gently she dabbed at the cheeks of the child, who was looking up at her with solemn brown eyes that reminded Juliet of a wounded puppy.
Rose stepped forward and put her arm about her distressed daughter. ‘Don’t worry about Mary, Lady Juliet. She cries all the time since Joe came home without a leg. She’ll get over it given time.’
Juliet looked at Rose and smiled, wishing she could dispel the unhappiness and the fear she felt for her husband from her eyes. ‘I’m sure she will—as sure as I am that everything will work out, Rose. Tell Joe to come and see me when he comes home and we’ll see what is to be done about this poaching business. I don’t believe it of him for one minute—and I think Lord Cardell will realise his mistake of listening to his keeper without proof of Joe’s guilt.’
Without looking in Lord Cardell’s direction, where he was trying to calm his restless mount that was pawing at the ground, eager to be on its way, she walked to where she had left her pony and trap, surprised when he followed her, feeling his penetrating eyes on her all the time. She turned to face him.
‘Have you had an edifying look at me, Lord Cardell?’
‘Not quite. It is to my advantage that I get to know who my neighbours are. I hope this minor issue with your tenant is not going to affect neighbourly relations between us.’
‘As to that, we shall have to wait and see,’ Juliet replied tightly, finding it difficult to show leniency towards him in light of what had just occurred. ‘Where Mrs Ruskin is concerned, having her husband accused of poaching is far from being a minor issue. What are you? Some kind of monster? The Ruskins are gentle people, living their lives and troubling no one. And suddenly you come along and threaten to have Mrs Ruskin’s husband and the father of those children arrested, thrown into jail and transported to goodness knows where.’
‘Come now, that’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?’
‘No, it is not. That’s what happens to anyone caught poaching. How could you do that?’
‘I can and I will. I cannot have anyone poaching my game. If he is indeed guilty of the offence and is seen to get away with it, it will send out the wrong message, and I will have all and sundry doing the same. I will not have it.’
‘I can see that,’ she retorted scathingly. ‘You really are the most ill-mannered, inconsiderate man I have ever encountered, Lord Cardell,’ Juliet upbraided him coldly. ‘My mother always told me that such an outward display of temperamental frustration as you have just shown is regarded as a sign of bad breeding.’
His eyes narrowed and his lips tightened. ‘Your mother was probably right, and I daresay I am what you accuse me of being. It goes with the title.’
Juliet was in no mood to be mocked, and she could see by the gleam in his eyes that he was doing exactly that. ‘Then with you as an example, I can only hope that you are the last titled Englishman I shall ever meet.’
‘As the sister of an earl, I would very much doubt that. And since we are bandying words, Lady Juliet, you really are the most infuriatingly outspoken woman I have ever met.’
Raising her head, she fixed him with a level gaze. ‘I agree, I am outspoken—be it a failing or a blessing, I care not one whit. I dare say a lot of things to a man who scares children half to death,’ she said, and with good reason, for the terror she had felt as a child locked in a dark cupboard for hours on end by this particular gentleman she had not forgotten—although in his arrogance he would have no recollection of the fact, and she would not humiliate herself by reminding him of the incident. She would not forgive him that act of cruelty. ‘I imagine you also terrify each and every one of your servants so they creep about in fear of you, and that your whole house vibrates with tension that springs from you, Lord Cardell. By the look on your face, I would wager I have hit a sore spot. Please don’t disappoint me by holding your temper. I would hate to see you explode with the effort.’
‘Believe me, Lady Juliet, you would not want to see me explode. I have a temper, I admit it, when I am driven to it. And how I run my household and treat my servants concerns only myself.’
‘Be that as it may,’ she said with a defiant upward tilt to her chin, her voice edged with high indignation, ‘you still have no proof of Joe Ruskin’s guilt. Besides, innocent or guilty, you have no standing here. While my brother is absent, I have the authority on this estate.’
Lord Cardell cocked an arrogant brow. ‘And you are sure of that are you, Lady Juliet?’ Her expression told him that she wasn’t. ‘We will have to wait and see what the law has to say about that. Now I must be away. I have an appointment to keep and I am already late.’
Turning from her, he mounted his horse with an athletic grace that did not surprise her in the slightest. She would have expected nothing less from this arrogant lord.
‘You will find the shortest route back to Mulberry Hall is to ride through the park which belongs to my brother, Lord Cardell. Although if you do so, I must warn you that you could be apprehended for trespassing. But worry not,’ she said, when his expression became one of surprise. ‘I am sure Richard would show you more tolerance and leniency than you have just shown to Mrs Ruskin.’ She switched her attention to his mount pawing its hooves on the ground, clearly impatient to be off. ‘You seem to be having difficulty controlling your horse, sir. Is it not time you taught it who is master?’
‘I assure you he knows who is his master.’ He looked at her closely. ‘What a firebrand you are, Lady Juliet Sinclair. It appears to me that you are in need of some mastering yourself. Should your brother fail to do so, I would be honoured to put myself forward. Teaching a lovely young female how to behave like a lady should be—interesting. I would use the same tactics as I would at taming a horse. I would soon have you doing my bidding and swooning at my feet.’
His hollow chuckle held a note of mockery. A flush of anger spread to the delicate tips of her ears. ‘Why, you conceited, unmitigated cad...’
‘I get the gist,’ he said, cutting her short with a low laugh, noting the icy fire that smouldered in her deep amber-coloured eyes.
Suddenly he seemed to relax in the saddle and his lips curved into a smile, taking Juliet by surprise as she stared at him. It was the most engaging smile she had ever seen, the smile of a man who finds the whole world a delightful place to be. It was a smile that lit his eyes and caused her heart to flutter.
‘You are arrogant if you believe I would ever swoon at your feet. Thank God I am not afflicted by such weakness.’ She stepped away from him and his horse, finding his closeness and the way he towered over her a little intimidating. ‘Be on your way, sir.’
Not yet ready to be dismissed, he hesitated. ‘At least allow me to escort you to Endcliffe House.’
Her chilled contempt met him face to face. She stepped back. ‘I am quite capable of taking myself home. Go away and take that vicious beast with you,’ she snapped, glancing irately at the bay stallion that had begun to snort and stamp impatiently, its vigorous temperament reminding her so very much of its master.
‘Aren’t you taking a risk? You might be set upon by footpads or worse. Anything could happen to a woman travelling alone.’
‘It just did, and I am of the opinion that I’m in less danger of being set upon by footpads than I am from you. At least they may have better manners.’ Turning her back on him, she hoisted herself up into the trap, taking up the reins.
He sighed, feigning disappointment, slowly shaking his head. ‘Such ingratitude.’
‘Ingratitude?’ she gasped. ‘You call me ungrateful after the distress you have caused Mrs Ruskin by accusing her husband of poaching your rabbits?’
His eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘Have it your way. You know, Lady Juliet, I cannot believe that here we are crossing swords in this undignified manner, two sensible people arguing about rabbits. If there has been a misunderstanding, then I will apologise to Mrs Ruskin and her husband most sincerely. Rest assured, I shall look into the matter immediately.’ He pulled on the reins and turned his restless horse about. ‘I sincerely hope that when next we meet, this unpleasant issue will have blown over and we behave as acquaintances should. I am certain that as neighbours, we are going to get on famously.’
‘Really? You are sure of yourself, sir—and conceited if nothing else.’
Juliet’s voice held a note of reproof that finally penetrated Lord Cardell’s intensity. He gave her a startled glance, then a disarming smile and impudent honesty.
‘Not always. Only when I see a lovely young woman I would like to know better.’
‘I see.’ Juliet lifted a disapproving brow. ‘And you hope to make a good impression, I presume.’
‘It had occurred to me.’
‘Then you will be disappointed that you have not, sir.’
‘So, am I to understand that calling on your brother is out of the question?’
‘That’s right—at least not until your manners improve. Good day to you.’
‘And good day to you too, Lady Juliet.’
He kicked his horse into motion. His laughter drifted back to her, his mockery infuriating her yet further. Urging her pony on she glared after his retreating figure, muttering all kinds of threats under her breath. She had never met a man who had irritated her as he had just done, and it chafed her sorely to consider his flawless success.
Riding away, Marcus halted his horse and turned and looked back. He watched with a brooding attentiveness in his eyes and not without a good deal of interest as Lady Juliet Sinclair travelled in the opposite direction towards Endcliffe House. Hostility from ladies in her position was not something he had encountered before. Most young ladies were more than eager to be amiable to him—although perhaps she’d had good reason not to be in her defence of Joe Ruskin. He was, after all, one of her brother’s tenants and Lady Juliet was convinced of his innocence.
Perhaps she was right and his accusation had perhaps been a little hasty, but having been most put out on receiving a letter from his mother forbidding him to bring Adele, his six-year-old daughter who was a sensitive child, to Mulberry Hall until he was more settled and had put his mind to finding himself a wife and mother for his daughter. Adele would remain with her in London for the time being or at the Cardell estate in Sussex.
Continuing his journey back to Mulberry Hall, he became thoughtful. He’d spent a little time in London before coming to Surrey. As soon as word got round of his return, invitations to social events had rained down on him. Before his marriage, his potent attraction to women had been a topic of much scintillating feminine gossip, but marriage and his military career had taken him out of the public eye. Now he was back, a widower and about to take up residence at the fabulous Mulberry Hall estate—a draw for any aristocratic family with a bevy of unmarried daughters.
But age and his experiences in Spain had changed him. Now he possessed a haughty reserve that was not always inviting and set him apart from others in society. He was always careful to choose a mistress whose company he enjoyed. She had to be intelligent and sophisticated, who would not mistake lovemaking and desire with love, and moreover, she had to be a woman who made no demands and expected no promises.
He missed his military life and his fellow soldiers. Since arriving at the house, he realised he would have to give himself up to the day-to-day running of the estate. He had called in the bailiffs to give an account of their management, accounts gone in to, acres of land ridden over and meetings with his tenant farmers. Alone in his elegant house, he restlessly wandered from room to room, unable to escape the throbbing emptiness and his longing to make it a family home once more.
His mother was right. Now he was home he must put his mind to remarrying, his wife, Elizabeth, having died giving birth to Adele. He had been fond of Elizabeth and had mourned her passing, but he had not loved her in the romantic sense. Desire, he understood. It was a more honest emotion. Passion and desire were easily appeased—fleeting—and easily doused. When he chose a woman to be his wife, he would be careful to choose a woman from a good family, whose company he enjoyed. But the most important thing of all was that she would be a good mother to his daughter. Adele was his priority. This was non-negotiable.
With Mulberry Hall within his sights, Lady Juliet drifted back into his thoughts, and a faint sensual smile quirked his lips. Her features had an aristocratic cast to them, and she had an air of good breeding. She had a face of unforgettable beauty, with high delicately moulded cheekbones, a perfect nose and generous lips. It was a strong face but essentially feminine. She had the kind of looks which few men failed to respond to with interest and some women with envy. She had worn a bonnet, but what he had seen of her hair, it was the colour of burnished gold. She was vibrant, vital and bold, but there was also about her a mysterious, almost sweet and gentle allure. Her form was slender and appealing. He smiled, looking forward to their next meeting, for as close neighbours, it was inevitable that their paths would cross in the future.
As for this matter concerning Joe Ruskin, maybe his keeper had been mistaken after all. He would look into the matter.
As Juliet travelled the well-worn path back to Endcliffe House, she was determined to cast Lord Cardell from her mind. The man was obnoxious, she decided, and not worth thinking about, although he was terribly handsome—she would grant him that. There was also an uncompromising authority in the set of his jaw and an arrogance in the tilt of his head that was not to her liking. But considering the remarks he had made regarding her brother, there was more than a ring of truth in what he had said. She prayed constantly that Richard would exchange the bustle of London for the grace of Endcliffe House. Since the death of their parents, their mother just one year before their father, Juliet had learned not to expect any form of duty from her brother, who was wrapped up in his own self-indulgent world of gambling and all the pleasures London had to offer.
At twenty-one years old Juliet was younger than Richard by three years, but she had always been the sensible, practical one, while he was somewhat reckless and foolhardy and liked to live life to the full and in comfort. She had soon learned that where Richard was concerned, her own wishes were not to be consulted, and she was forced by circumstances to live in genteel poverty, to be the keeper of Endcliffe House and to put all her youthful energies and her loneliness into their home, where she was responsible for all the household matters and the staff—of which only a handful of the old retainers remained. On Richard’s last visit to their home, she had confronted him, begged him, as she had done countless times in the past, to give up his reckless, expensive way of life and return to live in Surrey, for if he did not heed their situation, then ruination would soon be knocking at the door.
Whenever she had broached the subject, Richard was at once defensive and would become angry, finding her persistence to try to reform him extremely irritating. London, with its splendour and corruption, its squalor and excitement, thrilled and entertained him in a way his provincial home in Surrey had never done. His taste for pleasure and his capacity for enjoyment lifted his spirits in the restless, teeming city.
But enough was enough. After his last visit to Endcliffe House, discovering that the only valuables remaining in the house—their mother’s jewels—had disappeared, and knowing Richard must have taken them, and knowing exactly what he intended to do with them—that he would sell them in order to pay for his gambling, she knew they could not carry on like this. An inexplicable weariness and pain lay heavy on her heart. If they had to sell her beloved home, it would tear her apart. She would fight tooth and nail to hold on to it.
Ever since their father had died, leaving them in dire straits, with Richard away in London, she had come up against so many obstacles and had almost worn herself out in the bargain. She was to travel to London shortly to attend a prior engagement. It would be the perfect opportunity to confront her brother. She would try again to make him see the error of his ways, but she did not hold out much hope of success.
As she neared Endcliffe House, she thought how different her life would have been had she married Thomas. The image of his handsome laughing face flashed before her. Everything about him had drawn him to her. She’d been young and with the naivety of a girl who’d had a sheltered, loving upbringing, and being a man from a family with great affluence and a proper lineage, Thomas had been the epitome of everything she wanted her future husband to be.
She remembered the first time they had met at a soiree in London. They had spent the entire evening in each other’s company. They met on several occasions after that night. Her eyes would light up when he came into a room, and she would hang on his every word with a rapt expression on her face. He told her she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and that he had fallen in love with her the first time he’d laid eyes on her. She remembered the rapture she had felt when he had taken her in his arms and kissed her, then the blessed relief when he’d asked her to be his wife. Both families were in favour of the match, and she’d accepted him gladly, but her happiness led to heartache when, as a young commissioned military officer, he departed for the Peninsular with Wellington’s army.
He’d left with the sun shining on his hair, standing with one hand on his sword in the attitude of a Greek god, appearing to Juliet unbearably heroic. They would have been married by now had he not been killed at the Battle of Albuera in Spain just a few months ago. She would never forget the day when the tragic news had come to her and all the pain and desolation that had come with it. Never had she believed she could feel such pain, such anguish that went deep—deeper than anything she had ever known.
His death had coincided with the death of her father, and with this, combined with the worry that they might lose the Endcliffe estate that had been in the Sinclair family for generations, she had continued to carry on. Richard had suggested she should seriously consider seeking an affluent man to marry to solve their problems. Even though she had a sense of responsibility towards Richard stronger than it should be, it was there and was an intrinsic part of her. But she was unwilling at this time to be made a sacrifice. It was one of the few times she had lapsed into self-pity. She would rather marry a man she had chosen than one forced on her.
Whatever the outcome, she was determined never again to feel for any man the way she had for Thomas, that no man could ever take his place. She had hardened her heart, resolved that no man would ever breach it.
