Chapter One
Stamford, Hertfordshire, 1821
The horses proceededdown the avenue of ancient elms at a solemn pace, their black, plumed heads bowing as the Duke of Stamford was carried to his final resting place. His chest tight, Captain Jack Ryder watched the steam flow from the thoroughbred’s nostrils in the crisp, cold air.
“Chin up, old fellow.” His friend, Harry Feather, heir to Sir Ambrose Feather’s immense fortune, walked beside Jack as they followed the hearse with a cortège of subdued friends and relatives, some of whom Jack wished to purgatory. The one thing he shared with the widow’s family was mutual dislike. Ahead of them was his cousin, Grant, heir to the dukedom, and Grant’s mother, Aunt Elizabeth. Jack was extremely fond of them both. Aunt Elizabeth had been the closest thing to a mother to him, visiting him bearing cakes at his boarding school. 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 his father had breathed his last, followed by the ensuing heavy sensation of 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 every peer sends their sons born on the wrong side of the blanket to Oxford.”
“And then agree, albeit reluctantly, to their requests to join thearmy. He feared I’d do something reckless and be killed.”
“He had good reason for it,” Harry said, matching Jack’s stride, although he was a good head shorter. “You behaved as if your life wasn’t worth much. Earned you considerable praise, though. And a medal for valor.”
“If Father hadn’t been born the heir to a duke, he would have married my mother. His family forced him into a marriage to a woman he disliked.”
“Who wasn’t kind to you.”
“Can’t say that, exactly. She never acknowledged my existence.”
Harry checked if anyone was within earshot. “The duchess is universally disliked. I’d be surprised if there were many who’d shed tears over her deathbed.” He turned back to Jack. “Do you mind that Grant has inherited Stamford?”
“That drafty pile of stone?” Jack shook his head. “Why should I? I’ve known since birth it would be this way.”
“Still, Stamford is a magnificent property, as are the other investments.”
“Father left me a living. The Northumberland farm.”
Harry wound his scarf tighter around his neck, hunched his shoulders, and pulled his hat down over his chestnut hair. “Is it in good condition?”
“Yes. According to my father’s man of business. I’ve never been there.”
Harry’s brown eyes widened. “Why not?”
Jack shrugged. “Never had any reason to. It gives me a modest income, which is all I need.”
“Is that the extent of your inheritance?”
“It’s all I know about. I don’t expect anything more. Father bought me a commission in the army, and I saw that as a step on the ladder of life. The rest is up to me.”
“But the war’s long over and now you’ve resigned your commission…”
“I learned a few life skills during those years, Harry, did not you?”
Harry shrugged. “I suspect you would have learned them, anyway, Jack. All it did for me was make me realize how much I prefer a life of comfort over tramping through Spain in dreadful conditions while being shot at.”
“Taught you discipline, toughened you up. Made you a man, Harry. You aren’t one of those soft, indulged sons who waste their lives whoring and gambling about London.”
Harry smoothed an invisible crease on his sleeve. “Have no fondness for carousing. But you should go and sort out that property after the reading of the will.”
“Mm.” Jack watched the sway of the black-and-gold hearse moving along ahead of them. He felt cut off at the knees when he tried to envision the direction his life would take. His father had given his life meaning and it had been stripped away, by Society and his years away fighting. Jack needed time on his own to find himself. A sense of peace. “Eventually.”
“You’re in no hurry?”
“No.” Jack drew his grief around him like a shroud, took a deep breath, and made a decision. “You know, being a bastard gives a man certain advantages.”
“Oh? What would they be?”
