Father sat back in his chair and sighed. “It is such an odd thing, Edward. You suddenly becoming so vocal in your views on abolition. Your letters never mentioned any of it.”
Father was right; I hadn’t mentioned my developing viewpoints during my years at sea. Some part of me had known he would not take my ambitions seriously. I had never seen him take much of a political stance about anything, too focused as he was on investments that increased our family’s wealth and status. Father was a good man; I simply did not always agree with his priorities.
“Even a small amount of capital could make a difference,” I pressed. “I will handle all of it. You needn’t spare a moment of time for the cause.”
He swatted the suggestion away. “Let it be, Edward. I’ve worked hard to fill our coffers and ensure both my sons will inheritsomething, but risking any of it on a political campaign?" He scoffed. “Investments are far more beneficial to our future and easier to predict.”
Our future, but not everyone’s. So many were still trapped. How many men and women were being ferried across the sea at this very moment, their futures bleak and uncertain, while I sat here comfortably in my family’s townhouse? Yes, I was grateful for my father’s hard work and the estate I would inherit. It was nothing compared to what my older brother, Jonathan, would receive, but I had never once resented that.
Not until recently. Not until my father denied me financial assistance in my goal to propagate change. The limited prize money I’d been granted over the years was a paltry sum compared to what I needed to truly make a difference.
My eyes pressed closed.No more slaves. No more suffering, like Adda’s suffering.
I would fight for such a world. If only I could make Father understand. But how? He had no notion what my last five years of service in the Royal Navy had entailed. My family thought I had spent my final years at sea serving in the West Indies, a lie told to prevent Father’s disappointment and protect Mother from unnecessary worry. It did not do to stricken one’s mother with more anxiety than her son’s life at sea already caused.
“I am sorry, son.”
Father’s words drew open my eyes once more. His own shone with sympathy, but not surrender. He would not humor my requests, no matter how noble a cause I believed them. Resigned, I determined to focus all my attention on the goal I could achieve.
I stood. “Then, I will leave you, but I also wished to inform you of my intention to leave for Kent.”
“Kent?”
“Yes, I have business to see to there.”
Father’s brows furrowed. The estate I was meant to inherit was nowhere near Kent, hence his confusion. He could not fathom what other business I might have, and I had no desire to explain the situation in full. So, I settled for a partial truth. “Lord Paxton extended an invitation to me. I thought to take him up on the offer.”
This brought a wide grin of approval to Father’s face. “Capital! Am I to gather there is a particular reason for this visit?”
His graying brows rose, and I nearly laughed at the anticipation in his expression. He appeared nearly as pleased as Mother. I had, after all, enacted the beginnings of a courtship with Lord Paxton’s daughter this past Season.
A fake courtship, but my parents remained unaware of that fact.
“It is not a terrible reason to visit, is it?” I said with a noncommittal shrug. I had no intention of visiting Kenwick Castle to court anyone, especially not Annette Apsley, whose personality was as fiery as her red hair. She had made her opinion of me quite clear, though I would admit to looking forward to vexing her. Little else gave me so much joy as causing her nose to scrunch with disdain.
The memory of a kiss—one full of heated passion—pushed its way to the forefront of my mind. It was not the first time in the past four months that I recalled the exchange with Miss Apsley in that darkened alley, nor was it the first time my heartbeat increased in response.
Perhaps vexing her was not the only thing I enjoyed so thoroughly.
Regardless, Miss Apsley was not the reason I would take Lord Paxton up on his generous offer. As a true abolitionist, the viscount had offered to help me, and if anyone understood my desire to see change and justice, he did. Lord Paxton may even have information about Hollinsby’s new estate. That was more than enough reason to visit.
“Very well, safe travels.” Father’s brows drew further together. “Do write to me about Theo’s health, won’t you? And give him my wishes for his recovery.”
“Of course.”
Father and Lord Paxton had been friends since childhood. Given the viscount’s failing health, the request came as little surprise.
I bid Father farewell and raced up the stairs to my bedchamber. I retrieved a carved wooden box from my wardrobe. Inside, on top of a large stack of letters, rested Lord Paxton’s invitation to join him at his country estate.
An invitation that marked the beginning of change.
Chapter two
Annette
Tocarryabasketof strawberry tarts andnoteat a single pastry was an admirable triumph, though the temptation to steal one was ever present as I walked the road to Margaret’s cottage. She lived a quarter mile from Kenwick Castle, my family’s country estate, and I visited her as frequently as the weather would allow. Margaret and I had been friends for longer than I could remember, and upon returning from London after each Season, it was her company I sought most.
We would spend hours together, me relaying the latest gossip and fashion from Town and she filling me in on all the local news. This exchange must be made over a fresh batch of strawberry tarts, a custom we had come to adhere to with perfect proficiency.
