hellfire do I even begin?
Hawkhurst helped himself to a mug of ale from a jug on the sideboard and paced the room. “My requirements are few. First, she must not be from London. A young lady from a small country place would be best, I think. Within reason she should be of marriageable age. Someone too long in the tooth would be set in her ways; I’ve always found girls more amenable than mature women. She need have neither beauty, wealth, nor title, so long as she is from an impeccable background.”
Jacob Goldman looked at him blankly. “Is that all? Surely, m’lord, you will be more selective than that?”
“Jacob, I have no time to be selective. Good God, man, I’m not picking a mistress. I need a girl who is willing to marry in less than a month’s time, say June fifteenth, andin view of the unseemly haste I’ll settle five hundred pounds on her and another five hundred on her family.” He put down the empty tankard with a thud and demanded, “Do you think you can help me?”
Silence hung on the air, so that in the far distance a dog could be heard barking. Then Jacob Goldman began to laugh. For a moment he couldn’t talk and tears of laughter rolled down his cheeks.
Hawkhurst glowered at the solicitor and demanded, “What is it, man?”
“You won’t believe this, m’lord,” he said, taking out a linen handkerchief to wipe his eyes, “but I’ve got a wife for you!”
Shane felt relief and dismay in the same instant.
“The land in Ireland you need for sea access to your own lands belongs to a young woman in Cheltenham. She would not sell the land because it is her only dowry, bequeathed to her from her Irish father. Her stepfather is a reverend of the English church in Cheltenham—impeccable family background. So you see, if you offer for her …”
“I get a wife and I get my land,” finished Hawkhurst.
“Exactly! When can you arrange to travel up to Cheltenham to see the young lady?”
“I can’t,” he said flatly.
“But surely you wish to see her, speak with her?” insisted Goldman.
“I trust your judgment implicitly, Jacob. Draw up the contracts.”
“You wish the marriage arranged for June fifteenth, then?” he asked, pushing all his doubts aside. Would the girl agree? Would the stepfather? He thought he’d have little problem with the latter because of the settlementinvolved, but what of the girl? His only hope was that the animosity between her and her stepfather was so great that she would accept the marriage as a means of escape. He must succeed in this mission, for if he failed Hawkhurst in this he knew he could say good-bye to any future business dealings.
By nine of the clock that same night Shane Hawkhurst, resplendent in pale blue, was lifting the queen high in the gavotte in the music gallery at Greenwich, and stayed dancing attendance on Her Majesty and her ladies until past midnight, as he had been commanded to do.
By one o’clock his clothes had been exchanged one more time for the serious business of his first night in London. He and the baron, garbed head to foot in black and heavily cloaked and daggered, made their way from the docks down Gracechurch Street toward the corner of Threadneedle, where they slipped unseen in the back door of a brothel. From the street it was shabbily nondescript, for the London night house operated behind a blank face. It was to his credit, or discredit, whichever your view, that he did not go there to whore.
Chapter 4
Sabre had reached such a low point that if she could have reversed her decision about selling her land, she would have done so. She realized the money would have enabled her to escape even if she had forfeited it to Reverend Bishop in return for her freedom.
Reverend Bishop also wished he had acted differently when the solicitor had interviewed his stepdaughter. Perhaps if he had treated her with kid gloves and showed her some fatherly affection, he could have altered the little hellcat’s decision. So when
Hawkhurst helped himself to a mug of ale from a jug on the sideboard and paced the room. “My requirements are few. First, she must not be from London. A young lady from a small country place would be best, I think. Within reason she should be of marriageable age. Someone too long in the tooth would be set in her ways; I’ve always found girls more amenable than mature women. She need have neither beauty, wealth, nor title, so long as she is from an impeccable background.”
Jacob Goldman looked at him blankly. “Is that all? Surely, m’lord, you will be more selective than that?”
“Jacob, I have no time to be selective. Good God, man, I’m not picking a mistress. I need a girl who is willing to marry in less than a month’s time, say June fifteenth, andin view of the unseemly haste I’ll settle five hundred pounds on her and another five hundred on her family.” He put down the empty tankard with a thud and demanded, “Do you think you can help me?”
Silence hung on the air, so that in the far distance a dog could be heard barking. Then Jacob Goldman began to laugh. For a moment he couldn’t talk and tears of laughter rolled down his cheeks.
Hawkhurst glowered at the solicitor and demanded, “What is it, man?”
“You won’t believe this, m’lord,” he said, taking out a linen handkerchief to wipe his eyes, “but I’ve got a wife for you!”
Shane felt relief and dismay in the same instant.
“The land in Ireland you need for sea access to your own lands belongs to a young woman in Cheltenham. She would not sell the land because it is her only dowry, bequeathed to her from her Irish father. Her stepfather is a reverend of the English church in Cheltenham—impeccable family background. So you see, if you offer for her …”
“I get a wife and I get my land,” finished Hawkhurst.
“Exactly! When can you arrange to travel up to Cheltenham to see the young lady?”
“I can’t,” he said flatly.
“But surely you wish to see her, speak with her?” insisted Goldman.
“I trust your judgment implicitly, Jacob. Draw up the contracts.”
“You wish the marriage arranged for June fifteenth, then?” he asked, pushing all his doubts aside. Would the girl agree? Would the stepfather? He thought he’d have little problem with the latter because of the settlementinvolved, but what of the girl? His only hope was that the animosity between her and her stepfather was so great that she would accept the marriage as a means of escape. He must succeed in this mission, for if he failed Hawkhurst in this he knew he could say good-bye to any future business dealings.
By nine of the clock that same night Shane Hawkhurst, resplendent in pale blue, was lifting the queen high in the gavotte in the music gallery at Greenwich, and stayed dancing attendance on Her Majesty and her ladies until past midnight, as he had been commanded to do.
By one o’clock his clothes had been exchanged one more time for the serious business of his first night in London. He and the baron, garbed head to foot in black and heavily cloaked and daggered, made their way from the docks down Gracechurch Street toward the corner of Threadneedle, where they slipped unseen in the back door of a brothel. From the street it was shabbily nondescript, for the London night house operated behind a blank face. It was to his credit, or discredit, whichever your view, that he did not go there to whore.
Chapter 4
Sabre had reached such a low point that if she could have reversed her decision about selling her land, she would have done so. She realized the money would have enabled her to escape even if she had forfeited it to Reverend Bishop in return for her freedom.
Reverend Bishop also wished he had acted differently when the solicitor had interviewed his stepdaughter. Perhaps if he had treated her with kid gloves and showed her some fatherly affection, he could have altered the little hellcat’s decision. So when
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