A rush of chaotic emotion shot through Adam in the blink of an eye. Guilty elation that he would not lose his estate. Resignation over the continued burden of his responsibilities and the certainty of his marriage to Miss Rutley. Crushing despair over Jane’s desolate fate. He briefly considered hurling some of the coins down the slope to void the contract. However, duty stayed his hand. The preservation of his family land seemed the only bright light in an otherwise dark moment. As his eyes turned to Jane, though, her stricken expression cast a vicious pall over all else.
…
The worst pieces of news Jane had heard in her life were, “Your mother died” and, only recently, “Your father is gone.” The utterance of a single word from Mr. Barlow, though, competed for a place on the list.
“Heads.”
Her lungs seized immediately. In the absence of breath, she fought to understand the meaning of the word. Heads. Not tails. Not freedom. Not a future. She leaned forward woefully to study the coin, which still lay untouched on the ground. King George offered a dismissive profile that sported the laurel of a Greek champion, mocking her loss. When the coin failed to move for the space of several heartbeats, she gasped a breath and clutched her stomach. She peered sharply at Adam. To her surprise, he wore an expression of sorrow. She blinked with confusion. Had he not heard Mr. Barlow? Had he not seen the truth of the coin? Did he not realize he had saved his estate? As if in answer, he shook his head slowly.
“I am terribly sorry, Jane.”
His words confirmed the truth. He knew. And yet he failed to take any pleasure in his victory. She attempted to force a smile but failed to unlock the deep frown that froze her mouth in place. She could not, because of yet another truth. All her dreams, from old to new, had just withered and died on the mountainside at the hands of an unjust contract and the fickle bounce of a coin. With great care, she slipped her hand from Adam’s and fell into Aunt Hester’s waiting embrace.
“My dear girl.” Aunt Hester managed not much else, but instead wept quietly into Jane’s shoulder. Only after a time did Jane realize she was weeping as well. To their credits, Adam and Barlow did not intercede. They merely stood silently aside to allow grief to have its necessary moment.
Jane held tightly to her aunt, her rock, her last living relative. To let go was to set in motion the deplorable conditions of the contract. She knew, however, that the inevitable events would transpire despite her best efforts to avoid them. After perhaps a minute, she pushed away from her aunt and faced Barlow.
“Debtor’s prison for me, it seems.” She sniffled. “Your Mr. Rutley will no doubt be pleased by my impending misery.”
Barlow stood unmoving with eyes hooded beneath a drawn brow. “He is notmyMr. Rutley.” He doffed his hat and bowed low. “You have my deepest condolences. I greatly regret my part in this calamitous affair.”
“Do not, sir. You merely executed your required duties faithfully. The contract is not your doing. The outcome is not your fault.”
Barlow stood straight and reset his hat, his eyes tear-filled. Aunt Hester laid a comforting hand on his arm. He gathered her into a sidelong embrace and stared sadly into the distance while she examined the earth beneath her feet.
Jane turned her attention to Adam. His continuing silence grew abruptly untenable. She squeezed her hands together. “Say something, Adam. Anything.”
He gazed at her with stricken eyes. His spirit seemed to have departed his body. “I…I…”
She began to turn away, but he halted her with a hand on her wrist.
“Jane.” As she cut her eyes upward at him, he blinked and inhaled a slow breath. “I rue the events that have brought us to this. If only the feud had not separated us. If only we had not signed that contract. If only we had not found the gold. Then, then…perhaps we could have been more than just friends.”
Her lips tightened and she casually twisted her wrist from his fingers. “I disagree.”
Surprise lit his eyes. “Why?”
She breathed a sad chuckle. “Oh, Adam. The man you were before this journey would have never fallen for one of my low station. Your pride in your heritage and social standing would have prevented you from ever considering me as more than a simple acquaintance.”
He began to protest, but her index finger against his lips silenced him.
“However,” she whispered, “the prospect of losing everything changed you. It humbled you. It brought you down from on high to dwell among us mortals. It allowed you to regard me as an equal instead of the descendent of a family servant. That Adam is the man I hold in the highest regard. That is the man I have come to love. But now, you have maintained everything that you cherish. Go, then. Return to the mountaintop and forget about this implausible journey. Forget about what you thought we might have together.” She paused to draw a ragged breath. “As for the Adam Ashford I have come to know these past days, I will forever mourn his loss.”
She withdrew her finger and turned away quickly, if for nothing more than to avoid his wounded stare. She met the solicitor’s eyes. “It is done, then. I must return to London to face my fate. As I have no funds, I ask only for a loan sufficient for Aunt Hester and me to book overland passage.”
“Of course. Of course.” He released Aunt Hester to retrieve his wallet and produced a wad of bank notes. He held them to Jane. “This should cover passage, lodging, and meals for the journey.”
She gingerly accepted the offering. “I thank you, sir. I will repay you as soon as I can.”
He shook his head adamantly. “No, sweet girl. This is a gift. A token of my esteem for both of you and the pleasure of your company on this journey.”
Gratitude washed over her, shouldering aside a small measure of the encroaching despair. She dropped a deep curtsy. “Thank you, sir. Your kindness overwhelms me.” She sensed Adam’s silent presence at her back but could not bring herself to look at him lest she shatter. “If you please, Mr. Barlow, will you escort Aunt Hester and me back to Coniston? We must begin our preparations for travel. I’m sure Mr. Chance can assist Mr. Ashford with the packing of the gold.”
“At your service, Miss Hancock.”
He offered an elbow to her and the other to Aunt Hester. She accepted and began the steep descent.
…
