Chapter One
Stamford, Hertfordshire,1821
The horses proceeded down the avenueof ancient elms at a solemn pace, their black plumed heads bowing,as the Duke of Stamford was taken to his last resting place. Hischest tight, Captain Jack Ryder watched the steam flow from thethoroughbred’s nostrils in the crisp, cold, air.
“Chin up, old fellow.”Harry Feather, heir to Sir Ambrose, Baronet Feather’s immensefortune, walked beside Jack as they followed the hearse with acortège of subdued friends, and relatives, a few of whom Jackwished to purgatory. The one thing he shared with the duchess’family was mutual dislike. Close behind them was his cousin, Grant,heir to the dukedom, and Grant’s mother, Aunt Elizabeth. Jack wasextremely fond of them both. Aunt Elizabeth had been the closestthing to a mother to him, visiting him at his boarding school tobring him cakes, she’d made his lonely life bearable.
Jack scrubbed his hands over his face,as if the tiredness from too many nights of lost sleep while hisfather breathed his last, followed by the ensuing heavy sensationof grief, would be rubbed away. “Did as much as he could for me.Loved my mother, cared for her until she died.”
Harry nodded. “Indeed. And not everypeer sends their sons born on the wrong side of the blanket toOxford.”
“Then agreed albeitreluctantly to my request to join the army. Feared I’d do somethingreckless and be killed.”
“He had good reason forit,” Harry said. “You did behave as if your life wasn’t worth much.Earned you considerable praise though.”
“If he hadn’t been born aduke, Father would have married my mother. He was forced into amarriage to a woman he disliked.”
“Who wasn’t kind toyou.”
“Can’t say that, exactly.She never acknowledged my existence.”
Harry checked if anyone was withinearshot. “The duchess was universally disliked. I’d be surprised ifthere were many who shed tears over her deathbed.” He turned backto Jack. “Do you mind that Grant has inheritedStamford?”
“That drafty pile ofstone?” Jack shook his head. “Why should I? I’ve known since birthit would be this way.”
“Still, Stamford is amagnificent property and there are other investments.”
“Father left me a living.The Northumberland farm.”
Harry wound his scarf tighter aroundhis neck, hunched his shoulders and pulled his hat down over hischestnut hair. “Is it in good condition?”
“Yes. According to myfather’s man of business. I’ve never been there.”
Harry’s brown eyes widened. “Whynot?”
Jack shrugged. “Never had any reasonto. It gives me a modest income, which is all Irequire.”
“Is that the extent of yourinheritance?”
“It’s all I know about. Idon’t expect anything more. Father bought me a commission in thearmy, and I saw that as a step on the ladder of life. The rest isup to me.”
“But the war’s long overand now you’ve resigned your commission...”
“I learned a few lifeskills during those years, did not you?”
Harry shrugged. “I suspect you wouldhave learned them anyway, Jack. All it did for me was make merealize how much I prefer a life of comfort over trekking throughSpain in dreadful conditions and being shot at.”
“Taught you discipline,toughened you up. Made you a man, Harry. You aren’t one of thosesoft indulged sons who waste their lives whoring and gambling aboutLondon.”
Harry smoothed an invisible crease onhis sleeve. “Have no fondness for it. But you should go and sortout that property after the reading of the will.”
“Mm.” Jack watched the swayof the black and gold hearse moving along in front of them. He feltcut off at the knees when he tried to envision the direction hislife would take. His father had given his life meaning and now itwas stripped away. “Eventually.”
“You’re in nohurry?”
“No.” Jack drew his griefaround him like a shroud, took a deep breath, and made a decision.“You know, being a bastard gives a man certainadvantages.”
“Oh? What would theybe?”
