Chapter One
Sitting at his customary table in the Red Lion Inn, Reverend Shackleford took a large sip from his tankard of real ale and congratulated himself on now being in possession of five influential, not to mention, extremely wealthy sons-in-law. His coffers were filling nicely, and soon there’d be enough to ensure that Anthony would be able to take his place in Society - with wealth enough in his own right and not simply as a poor relation. Although being a poor relation to a duke, an earl, a marquis and a viscount was surely not to be sniffed at.
And now, at twelve, the boy was attending daily lessons at Blackmore along with Nicholas and Grace’s son Peter. Things were moving along very satisfactorily indeed - apart from the minor fact that according to the boys’ tutor, Anthony was not the best of influences on the six-year-old heir to the Duke of Blackmore’s estates.
Augustus Shackleford frowned, his good humour souring a little. Truth be told, Anthony was too ripe and ready by half. Hardly surprising given that he’d spent the whole of his childhood trailing after his eightsisters who’d nearly always been up tosomething and hadn’t given a tinker’s damn about tying their collective garters in public.
Sighing, the Reverend picked up his tankard. Truly, it had been a long weary road, and he couldn’t help feeling he’d spent much of it in one hobble or another. But now, only three of his daughters remained unwed, and he was persuaded that he hadn’t made an entire mull of things.
Naturally, it was a little troubling that at eighteen, neither of the twins, Charity and Chastity had shown much inclination towards matrimony. Still, putting aside Charity’s tendency to be disturbingly forthright, he was assured that both girls were more than passably pretty, and he had high hopes that one of them at least might brave the marriage mart.
Reverend Shackleford took another contented sip of his ale having no doubt that one of his sons-in-law would eventually put his hand in his purse to furnish the chits with a London Season.
Inevitably, his thoughts then turned to Prudence, and he gave a small shudder before rallying. At sixteen there was still time to take her in hand. Hurriedly dismissing the unsettling thoughts of his youngest daughter lest they give him an ulcer, Augustus Shackleford returned his deliberations to his only son.
Anthony was simply displaying the same tendencies as any young man. Pushing boundaries was what young gentlemen did, he was certain. Though in fairness, he wasn’t actually acquainted with any young gentlemen of his son’s age to confirm such a theory. Frowning, he thought again of his daughters. They hadn’t so much pushed boundaries as simply ridden over them. Still, young men were expected to be boisterous, and he would have a chat with Anthony, man to man, this very evening.
Indeed, it felt as if the Almighty was finally about to reward him for his unwavering dedication. Waving his hand towards the innkeeper, Reverend Shackleford decided to treat himself to a steak and kidney pudding in celebration, entirely certain the worst was over.
∞∞∞
The weather was unseasonably warm for February, so much so that wild crocuses and daffodils were even now blooming in the hedgerows and fields around Blackmore. It was a far cry from the bloody war that had been raging in Europe for over twenty years. But for the first time, it seemed there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Back in October, Napoleon had finally been defeated at the Battle of Leipzig, ensuring the collapse of the French Empire east of the Rhine. The self-styled emperor was being slowly forced back towards Paris with the coalition armies comprising of Russia, Prussia, Austria and Sweden in hot pursuit. Reports coming through declared that the Duke of Wellington was already in southwestern France with his forces, having pushed French troops out of Spain and was on his way to Paris. The news sheets were declaring the war all but over.
Grace watched as her husband’s carriage finally disappeared through the distant gates that formed the entrance and exit to the Blackmore estate. Although she and Nicholas had been married for nigh on eight years, she never grew accustomed to his enforced absences and, in truth, she knew it was the same for him.
On this occasion, the situation in Europe was dragging him away from Blackmore and finally the news was good. Napoleon wason the run, and it seemed as though it was only a matter of time before he would be forced to abdicate. Nicholas had been called to an urgent meeting of the Lords to be held at Westminster.
It was not so bad. While Nicholas would be away for some weeks, she would be joining him in just over a month. Indeed, practically her whole family would be congregating for the first time since Patience’s wedding to the Marquis of Guildford eighteen months earlier.
In the wake of that marriage, the cold shoulder previously offered to the entire Shackleford family by Queen Charlotte had finally been put to bed. Even more surprising was the unexpected shine her majesty had taken to Patience. Seating herself by the fire, Grace chuckled to herself. Though her sister had almost certainly not meant to be funny, Patience had on one particular occasion announced to her Majesty that the Lord Steward reminded her of their foxhound, Freddy.
So here they all were, back in Charlotte’s good books. Until the next time…
The only ones missing from the reunion in London would be Faith and Roan as her sister had recently delivered of a healthy baby girl. It was for that reason that Grace had been persuaded that two of the four weeks away from her husband would be most agreeably spent visiting Torquay and her new niece.
The Duchess glanced over at her own daughter, busy cleaning the morning room windows with a napkin. Wincing at the revolting looking smudges smeared across the glass, Grace reflected it was unfortunate that the napkin had earlier been used to remove the remains of Mrs Higgins’ prize-winning chocolate cake from the little girl’s fingers.
Almost three now, Jennifer was already exhibiting slightly alarming traits comparable to those displayed by the rest of the females in her family. Grace shook her head with a rueful smile. Really, Nicholas was entirely too soft on her.
A sudden knock on the door, brought her out of her reverie. ‘Come,’ she announced, pouring herself another dish of tea.
The door opened to reveal Jimmy, her husband’s … well his generaldo allshe supposed. Nobody seemed at all certain exactly what it was that Jimmy actually did for Nicholas. When asked, the Duke generally laughed and winked. Grace knew her husband was very fond of the rascal and suspected he kept the boy close to ensure the rogue stayed on a path of ... well, if not righteousness, then straight enough to keep his head out of the noose. The Duke’s patronage also ensured that Jimmy’s widowed mother had enough food on her table.
She looked over at the boy, politely doffing his cap. In truth, Jimmy was no longer a lad. He was filling out, and at nearly eighteen with hair the colour of old gold and cornflower blue eyes, he was already catching the eye of every unmarried female within a five-mile radius.
‘Beggin yer pardon, yer grace,’ he murmured, ‘Miss Charity charged me wi’ delivering ‘er note.’ He held out an envelope. ‘She said it were to go into no one’s hand but yer grace’s.’
Grace frowned and held out her hand, wondering if her sister had a problem. Things had actually been unusually peaceful at the vicarage since Patience’s marriage. If the twins had been up to some mischief, they had kept remarkably quiet about it. But then at eighteen, they were grown women and like to put such childish pursuits aside. As she slit open the letter, Grace determinedly ignored the small voice in her head that pointedout that becoming an adult had in no way curbed her own tendency for mischief.
‘Damn and blast,’ she muttered on reading the contents.
The twins might be considered women grown, but neither Charity nor Chastity had expressed any wish for a Season in London – or anywhere else for that matter - and aside from the fact that she wished her sisters to make good marriages, Grace had learned from the mistakes she had made when forcing Patience down a path she had no wish to tread. The fact that it had worked out so well, was most definitely not due to either her or Tempy’s machinations. Nevertheless, she had high hopes that in another year or two, the twins might reconsider.
However, on reading the note in her hand, she couldn’t help but wonder if her restraint had on this occasion backfired spectacularly.
∞∞∞
‘True love knows no boundaries,’ Chastity declared dramatically, her hand fluttering around the area she supposed her heart to be.
