Prologue

“I will not send my son to some foreign country!” the woman cried as she clutched her son to her chest and paced the small room, her red hair billowing out in waves behind her like a blazing banner.

“M’lady,” the olive-skinned man gruffly began, his heart squeezing as he watched his mistress drop a loving kiss on the infant’s forehead, “You know as well as I that it is dangerous for the lad to remain here. He must be sent to America where he may escape a fate of death.”

“Do not say such things in my presence,” the lady snapped, and then her eyes softened as she sighed, “As always, dear Warrick, you are right.”

“M’lady?”

“They seek to merely drive me out of this land and back to my own. But my child is Benedict’s son, and therefore, their only wish is that he dies. But I refuse to let them kill my son, so the only thing I can do to keep him safe, is to give him up,” the lady responded, tears springing to her eyes.

“My sister shall take good care of him,” Warrick assured his distraught mistress, “She will raise him like a son, and the moment he is old enough to understand, he will be told of his true mother and of her great love for him.”

“So you think it best that he never returns to these shores then?” the lady asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Your dear Benedict already thinks you and your son dead, and so for either of you to return at any time would most likely be unwise, especially when the enemy lurks so near at hand at all times,” Warrick honestly responded, his dark eyes intently watching the lady’s reaction.

Almost immediately, her shoulders slumped and all the fight went out of her. The situation truly was hopeless. She had already lost a husband she loved beyond all doubt and now she was going to lose her son, her own flesh and blood, her beautiful little angel child. And all because fate had dealt her a cruel hand in the past six months.

With pleading eyes, she turned to Warrick, an aging warrior, who had been her protector and man-at-arms since she had been a young child. His loyalty warmed her heart, and she knew that she could count on him for anything and everything. But she dared not ask him to risk his life for her son … a child whom Warrick barely knew; whom even she barely knew.

And she never would be able to get to know her little angel child better. She would never get the chance to watch him grow up, become a man, fall in love, marry, have children of his own, fulfill his true destiny … but it was a sacrifice she would have to make. She needed protection for herself, and that protection would have to come from her relatives in Scotland. But Warrick was right; the best protection for her infant son would be across the seas, in the care of another where he would have no knowledge of his birthright and all the burdens it brought with it.

“M’lady, the ship is waiting as we speak,” Warrick suddenly spoke up, jolting the woman from her depressing thoughts, “I suggest we move on before the spies catch up with us and report back to their masters.”

“Yes of course,” the lady agreed as she began to bustle about the room after setting her son down on the bed, where he instantly fell into sleep. “Who shall be taking my son to the ship?”

“I shall,” Warrick responded as he helped load all the necessities into a sack and finally slung it over his shoulder.

“I cannot ask that of you Warrick, it is far too dangerous,” the lady harped.

Her eyes had grown large at his response, for as she loved him like a second father, she did not want to see anything happen to him because of her. But deep down inside, she knew there was nobody else she could entrust the care of her son to.

“It is a risk I am willing to take for you and for your son,” Warrick gruffly responded as his mistress picked up her son again and cradled him for a last few moments, “I do not trust anybody else to see him safely to the ship.”

“You are right,” the lady agreed with a sad smile as she handed her son over to the large man whom she trusted with her life, “Please go, and return safely to me. I have lost too much already; I cannot lose you as well.”

“I will return m’lady, I promise you that,” Warrick responded as he prepared to leave, the infant cradled gently in his muscled arms.

“I shall hold you to that,” the lady stated as she placed one more kiss on her beloved son’s head before turning away.

Warrick quickly strode from the room, not noticing as his mistress finally broke down and cried for the loss of her son. But there was nothing that could be done now; the plan was in place, and it was for the best.

The horse he rode was swift, causing the tails of his long coat to billow out behind him as the black steed raced across open expanses of land and towards a small sea port. A passerby might have assumed that he was attempting to evade the oncoming storm, its rain clouds dark and threatening at his back. However, the small, sleeping bundle in his arms was a constant reminder of just how precarious and important his mission actually was.

As dirt turned to cobblestones and the warrior finally pulled his horse into the small sea port, he silently breathed a sigh of relief. This mission was almost over, and soon the lad would be safe so he could return to his mistress’ side and see her to the safety of her family in Scotland.

Carefully climbing down from his horse, Warrick concealed the still-sleeping infant beneath the folds of his coat to ward away the chill as well as keep him hidden. As far as he knew, none were aware of the lad’s departure for America, but he was not taking any chances. Not when so many were out to kill him because of his birthright.

“Sir Warrick?” a quiet voice suddenly questioned from somewhere to his right. The burly man quickly turned at the sound, one hand clutching the infant tighter, the other resting on the hilt of his sword, which was safely sheathed.

“Yes?” he guardedly questioned.

When the timid woman stepped from beneath the shadows, Warrick immediately recognized Lady Bethany Laurens, a small woman with mousy brown hair and kind eyes. This lady and her husband, Lord Zachary Laurens, an older couple who were visiting relatives in America, had agreed to transport the lad to Warrick’s sister in Boston, Massachusetts. As distant relative of his, Warrick knew without a doubt that the couple was trustworthy and could complete this mission without a hitch.

Of course, neither Lady Bethany, nor Lord Zachary knew who the lad actually was. They had been told that the lad was Warrick’s daughter, Regina’s son and that she was sending him to America for safety’s sake because of all the political upheaval that was currently occurring in England. It was a believable lie, one which Warrick knew they wholeheartedly believed, and would continue to believe for the duration of their journey west to America.

The fewer people who knew the lad’s true identity, the better, so the deception was a necessity.

“I am sorry to keep you waiting for so long,” Warrick apologized as he followed the lady in the direction of the docks, where two large merchant ships lay anchored amid smaller fishing boats, “My daughter was very upset to have to part with the lad for such a long amount of time.”

“Quite understandable,” Lady Bethany quietly replied as the pair came upon the ship where her husband stood waiting for them, “I would never have been strong enough to do what your daughter is doing.”

“It is for the best though, what with England in an upheaval over the queen and her infant son’s death so recently,” Zachary Laurens voiced as he overheard the tail-end of their conversation.

“That is the only way my daughter could deal parting with the lad when he is so young,” Warrick explained, the lie passing easily across his lips. Lord Zachary silently nodded his head in understanding.

“My lord and lady, the ship is getting ready to depart, I suggest you board now,” the captain of the ship suddenly spoke as he approached the trio, “Is there anything I can assist you with at this time?”

“No Captain James, we are all set. My wife and I are just finishing up saying goodbye to one of our relatives and will be aboard very shortly,” Lord Zachary responded.

“Very good my lord,” the captain concluded before walking down the gangplank and boarding his ship.

Without a word, Warrick pulled the lad from beneath his coat and handed him to the waiting arms of Lady Bethany. The lady cooed over the infant, who was still sound asleep, as Warrick handed the sack of belongings to Lord Zachary. Warrick took an unsure step back, his heart squeezing in his chest as he realized this would probably be the last time he would see the lad.

“Thank you both very much for doing this for me,” Warrick stated as he shook hands with Lord Zachary and prepared to depart them.

“It is no problem whatsoever,” Lord Zachary responded as he shook his distant relative’s hand, “We shall send word the moment we dock.”

“Thank you. Oh, and please give this to my sister as well,” Warrick said as he handed a sealed letter to the Englishman.

“I shall,” Lord Zachary agreed.

“God speed to you both,” Warrick concluded before turning away and walking back in the direction of his horse.

His part of that mission was now complete. Now it was time to return to his mistress and see her to the safety of Scotland, where her family awaited her. He only hoped that they were doing the right thing, sending the lad all the way to America.

But as the Crown Prince of England, the boy had no chance for survival here, where many already believed him dead, and those who didn’t, wanted him that way. By sending him to America, he would be given the chance to live.

Chapter 1

27 Years Later - 1818

The young man stared broodingly out on the vast expanse of water, the deep blue an endless continuation until it met with the red horizon of the dawning day. He had been looking forward to this trip ever since he was a lad and had learned that he was adopted and had family somewhere in England. Now, however, he was apprehensive and having second thoughts.

His surrogate parents had very little knowledge of his English family, so he was basically searching for a needle in a haystack. For all he knew, they could be dead and this trip could be a waste.

But he couldn’t deny that ever since he had learned that his parents, in fact, were not truly his parents, he had been dead set on searching for those who had given him up at birth. He wasn’t sure if it was anger or curiosity that drove him to make this trip, but one way or another, he was going to discover his past and finally put all the pieces of the puzzle together.

The little he knew of his journey to America, he knew by heart.

As an infant, he had traveled with an older couple – whether they were his grandparents, nobody knew – to escape political upheaval in a divided and weary England. When the couple had died of disease trying to cross the Atlantic, he had been cared for by Julie Bennington, an English peasant who was traveling to America to meet up with her husband, who had sailed over years earlier, and settle into life helping run a cotton plantation.

When no relatives had claimed the young lad when the ship pulled into Boston, Julie had decided that it was her duty to take care of the infant she had come to care for in the weeks aboard the ship. Her husband, Peter Bennington, after hearing the story, readily agreed to raise the child as his son and so the couple soon set out for their home in Georgia with a new son, Justin Bennington, and plenty of hopes and dreams. That was the start of his life in America as he knew it.

The years had passed unobtrusively and in comfort on a cotton plantation in Georgia, which Peter Bennington owned. At 12-years old, Justin had the love and protection of two wonderful parents, a younger sister named Sofie, and a baby brother named David, all the family he could ask for. But that year, he had learned that all that he held dear was not his.

The devastation had been acute, the anger passionate. At first he had been mad at Julie and Peter Bennington, for not telling him sooner and treating him so much like a son. But as the years passed and he became a young adult, the anger had turned from them to the biological parents that had so readily given him up at birth.

Had they not loved him? Was he possibly a bastard child, and therefore an embarrassment to his true family? Or was there some perfectly good reason that he, as an infant, had been shipped away from his parents and to a completely different country?

He had vowed that one day, he would make the journey across the sea and search for those who had not wanted him. He would get an answer to his questions, come hell or high water.

Now, at twenty-seven years old, no longer a child but a serious and considerate young man, with immense wealth from the success of his shipping fleet, Justin was ready to face his past head-on. With the good wishes of his surrogate family, and a promise that he always had a home with them, he had set out on his journey. His heart was heavy, his mind filled with unsettling thoughts, as his fastest ship, the Merry Georgian brought him ever closer to the coast of England, his true home.

But, if his family was found, would he ever be able to honestly call England home?

All he had ever known was life on a cotton plantation, where the hot sun scorched the back of slave and owner alike. Life was uncomplicated and unrestrained – a far cry from the stiff, restricted life led by the people of the British upper class. While he had been educated at some of the finest schools, had a good head upon his shoulders and the manners of a truly refined gentlemen, he still felt out of place whenever he ventured with his crew to English shores to do business.

The stiff upper lip, as he was wont to think of the British upper class’ attitude, never sat well with him. He had had many dealings with peers of the realm, and had found many of them haughty, cold and with an arrogant attitude. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d been called a bloody Yankee behind his back, so how was he to accept, much less be accepted by this country and its people?

Justin sighed as he ran a hand through his tousled curls and jolted himself from those thoughts. He was tired, yet found he was unable to sleep, and had resorted to pacing the decks and keeping a night watch while the rest of the men slept. His nerves were taut, his mouth set in a grim line, and his normally bright blue eyes were a somber pale hue.

“Bloody hell Justin, you look like you are about to contemplate what the best course would be to drown yourself,” a voice suddenly spoke up from somewhere to his right.

Grinning, Justin turned as his second-in-command, Dexter O’Keefe, ambled towards the aft of the ship, where he stood with his hand on the wheel, confidently directing their course toward English shores. The two of them were the best of friends, had been since they were young lads, and Justin was sorely thankful for his presence on this journey.

Standing at just over six feet, with reddish-brown curly hair and blue eyes, Justin was the more serious of the two men. Dexter, who was shorter at 5’10 and had jet-black, straight hair where Justin’s was curly, was always ready with a smile and a joke, thus counteracting his friend’s serious nature. As family and friends could readily attest to, the two men complimented each other perfectly, which was why their friendship was so strong.

“Not quite that drastic I am afraid,” Justin returned, his teeth flashing in the early sunlight as he grinned, “I am just planning the best way to throw you overboard.”

Dexter’s mouth fell open in shock at his best friend’s words before he recovered and gave Justin a good-natured punch in the arm. It was rare for Justin to crack a joke, yet when he did, he did so with full force, usually rendering his audience speechless before they cracked up in laughter. Dexter, having known Justin for so many years, was used to his friend’s sense of humor and thus had become somewhat immune.

“I see where I rate nowadays,” Dexter grumbled good-naturedly as he lounged against the railing of the ship’s deck, “I go from being your best friend and second-in-command to the target of all your jokes. If only your mother could hear you now, she would give you quite a tongue-lashing.”

“Need I remind you that we are hundreds of miles from Georgia, and thus those words, as well as my mother, have no power over me whatsoever?” Justin dryly countered as he turned the wheel of the ship a fraction of an inch to the right.

“Touché,” Dexter responded as he gazed thoughtfully into the horizon at the rising sun, “Do you suppose we will make it into port by evening?”

“If we keep up this pace, I have no doubt that we shall arrive in Southampton before the sun sets,” Justin confidently responded, his mouth turning once again into a grim line of determination. Dexter noticed the change in his friend almost immediately.

“Please do not tell me that you have been up all night,” the shorter man stated as he closely watched his friend’s reaction. Justin guiltily stared down at his hands, not really wanting to get into this familiar argument with his friend for the umpteenth time on this journey.

“Would you like the truth or a lie to make you feel better?” Justin asked.

“Bloody hell Justin,” Dexter swore, using his favorite phrase as he straightened and went to stand by his friend’s side, “You are going to make yourself sick if you do not get some sleep soon.”

“And you are going to drive me crazy if you keep acting like a woman,” Justin retorted, rolling his eyes at his friend’s over-concern with his well-being.

“Somebody has to act the part,” Dexter responded, grinning in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Just do not expect me to don some frilly dress and curtsey for you for I shall seriously contemplate jumping ship.”

Justin laughed as silence fell over the pair.

“So how did Sofie take your leaving?” Dexter suddenly questioned as he abruptly walked away from his friend. Justin raised a surprised eyebrow in his friend’s direction at the unexpected change in topic.

“Well you know Sof. She put up a fuss about not being able to come along to see London, and then when she realized why I was making the journey, she refused to talk to me before we set sail,” Justin stated as he ran his hands over the rough wood of the ship’s wheel. A frown marred his features as he thought of his sister.

“She doesn’t like the fact that you may leave her behind and never return,” Dexter stated as he stared off into the distance on the starboard side of the ship, “She seems to think that if you find your true family here, she will no longer be able to call you brother and you will forget all about her.”

“How do you know this?” Justin sharply demanded, his hands now clenched on the ship’s wheel, his heart thudding painfully in his chest for the distress he was causing his only sister.

“She came to me a few months ago, when you first decided to make the trip to England. She was extremely upset and crying, and you know how I can’t stand the sight of a female crying,” Dexter responded in a somewhat bemused tone, “I asked her what was wrong and she told me. I tried to tell her that she was being silly, but I think that just made her upset with me.”

“Oh?”

“She slapped me,” Dexter revealed as he rubbed a palm across his left cheek as if remembering the blow the upset female had landed upon his face.

Justin chuckled as he pictured the scene in his mind. Dexter and Sofie were too much alike in some things that it put them at odds with each other. However, that had never deterred them from ganging up together on Justin, who most of the times was lost to their sense of humor.

“Cap’n, ye best come quick,” one of the other crew members suddenly interrupted as he joined the pair at the ship’s wheel. Justin immediately straightened, all sense of humor gone from his face as he discerned the urgency in the man’s voice.

“What is it Quincy?” Justin asked as he noticed the man was unable to meet his eye and kept shifting from foot to foot.

“Just come quick cap’n and ye will see for yerself,” Quincy responded.

“Dexter, take the wheel and keep us in the current direction. I shall be back as soon as possible,” Justin instructed as he relinquished his hold on the wheel and began to follow his crew member below decks.

“Certainly captain,” Dexter responded, all business as he turned his full attention to the ship and put their earlier joking aside for the time being.

As Justin followed after Quincy, he quickly wondered what it was that needed his attention. Being captain of the ship, he was normally not bothered with the small problems, especially those which occurred within the crew. Justin fully trusted Quincy, the third-in-command and a big, burly man who had seen many years on the seas, so for him to be unable to deal with whatever was going on, meant that it was serious.

Fully thinking that they would be heading to the bowels of the ship where the crew’s quarters were located, the young man was surprised to see Quincy heading for the captain’s cabin, which Justin presently resided in. Without a word, Quincy opened the door and allowed the captain to enter ahead of him, before shutting the door after him.

“Quincy, what…” Justin began, but was cut off by a flash of color before a distinctly female form launched itself into his arms.

“Justin! Please tell them that you will not send me back home! I would not bear it if I had to return and face papa’s wrath for sneaking away on your ship,” the feminine voice cried, much to Justin’s utter dismay.

What the hell was his sister Sofie doing hiding aboard his ship…a ship that was almost to England at this point? It was as if because the two men had been discussing her, she suddenly appeared as if by magic aboard the Merry Georgian.

“We found ‘er hiding with some o’ the food stores early this morning,” Quincy stated in response to the questioning look from his captain, “Figured ye would want to know immediately.”

“Thank you Quincy. If you would please give us a moment alone, I would appreciate it much,” Justin blandly replied, his sister still in his arms. A muscle ticked in the corner of his jaw, showing the signs of his displeasure at this new development.

“As you wish cap’n. I will be on deck with Dexter if ye should be in need o’ me,” the third-in-command concluded before quietly leaving the room and shutting the door tightly behind him.

Once the burly man was gone, Justin turned his attention to his sister, who still stood silently in his arms. Abruptly, he set her away from him and began to pace the floor of the cabin in agitation. This was not something he needed, much less wanted, to deal with at this precise moment, with so much on his mind already, but this was his sister. He couldn’t very well lock her in his cabin and forget about her the rest of the trip.

He sighed, knowing that this was going to be a long day, if nothing else. By this time, his parents must be frantic with worry over Sofie’s disappearance and without a doubt, had no clue where she had gotten to. He groaned as he realized that there was no way he could send word to them until they docked in Southampton’s port, not unless they encountered another ship going to America on their way to the port, which was slim at best.

“Sofie, dear sister, what in bloody hell do you think you are doing here?” Justin finally began, his voice stern, his eyes staring directly at her tall, slim form.

“Justin, I can explain,” Sofie Bennington began, her chin set in a determined line, her blue eyes flashing with a spirit that Justin knew got her in trouble more often than not.

“Well then by all means, do explain,” the captain stated as he took a seat behind his large wooden desk before offering her a chair opposite him. Without a word, she took a seat and stared at her hands.

At twenty-four, Justin knew that Sofie should be married by now. And it was not that she lacked where looks were concerned. No, Sofie Bennington was quite beautiful; the envy of many girls and the object of many a bachelor’s affections. Standing at 5’8, with thick, light-brown hair, expressive blue eyes, and a very fine figure, Sofie had never lacked for admirers.

It was her spirit, her need for adventure, and the fact that she had declared to their parents that she would marry nobody else but Dexter O’Keefe, Justin’s best friend, which had discouraged suitor after suitor. Dexter, unaware of her true affections, considered Sofie to be the younger sister he never had and thus breaking Sofie’s heart. And being caught in the middle of it all, loyal to both parties, Justin was at a loss for what to do.

He knew without a doubt that Sofie and Dexter were two of a kind. Both passionate and loyal to a fault, with a wry sense of humor, it was no surprise that growing up, the two of them had constantly teamed up to play jokes on Justin and many of the children from surrounding plantations. But Dexter’s one and only love was the sea and his partnership with Justin in their trading company, O’Keefe and Bennington, Inc. which Justin had tried to explain many a times to his younger sister.

But she didn’t seem to understand that, and was constantly chasing after the oblivious Dexter, often times embarrassing herself and sending her possible suitors running for the hills. Justin knew his parents were becoming impatient for their only daughter to marry, settle down and raise children of her own. But Sofie’s will was strong, which is why she remained as of yet, unmarried.

“I know that you think I am just chasing after Dexter,” Sofie began as she finally looked her older brother in the eye, “But truth is, I could not stay in Georgia anymore. Mama and papa insisted that it was time that I married, and since I have snubbed every suitor I have had so far in the hopes that Dexter will look my way, they have chosen somebody for me.”

“I tried to warn you Sof. Dexter is married to the sea, just as I am, while you on the other hand, must marry. Papa and mama are not always going to be around to look after you and they just want to see you suitably married and cared for by a man who is your husband,” Justin kindly reminded her, quickly taking in the fact that she was genuinely upset.

“As much as I wish that Dexter would look my way and was not so in love with the sea, I understand that now,” Sofie dejectedly stated, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

“Sof…” Justin began, his heart wrenching at the sight of his sister so upset.

Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to ease her heartache short of forcing his best friend to marry his sister. And he drew the line at forcing himself into the affairs of others, even when they happened to be his best friend and his only sister.

“I have tried to close my heart to my wants and do as mama and papa ask of me, but the man they have chosen is so dull that I fear I would be driven to insanity if I were to marry him,” Sofie responded, her blue eyes wide, her lip trembling.

Justin didn’t know whether to laugh or to gather his sister into his arms and hug her until the pain in her eyes went away. She was always bluntly honest with those around her, a quality that was not so valued in the female race, but he, nevertheless found it worked for her. Unfortunately it was that same trait that had her in hot water with their parents, who had been shocked when their daughter had boldly announced that she wanted none other than Dexter O’Keefe for her husband. He could verily understand their need to see her safely wed.

“Sof, running away is not going to get you out of marriage. If anything, it will only make mama and papa more convinced that you must marry immediately,” Justin said, his fingers drumming idly on the wood of his desk, “Now, the moment we get to Southampton, I shall send them a letter with the fastest courier ship, and then I am booking you passage back to Georgia as soon as a ship is available to make the trip.”

“Please do not send me home, not now!” Sofie protested, quickly rising to her feet, her pain suddenly hidden by a mask of panic, “I have known nothing of life outside of the plantation while you have had the luxury of traveling the seas, visiting many foreign countries and experiencing the thrill of other cultures.”

“Need I remind you that all the trips I make are for business purposes?” Justin began, but Sofie quickly waved away his words with her hand as she continued on.

“At least you have had the chance to see the world. Please Justin, just one week. Give me one week in London and I promise I shall go home without a fight,” Sofie stated, her eyes pleading with him to relent. He sighed, wondering where the saddened girl of a few moments before had disappeared to.

“I hate that you have me wrapped around your little finger,” Justin said with a roll of his eyes as he found himself agreeing to her demands, “One week in London, and then you are on a ship back to Georgia. I shall send a letter to mama and papa the moment we dock in Southampton so they do not worry, but do not expect me to protect you from their anger once you return home.”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” Sofie squealed as she quickly went around the large wooden desk and threw her arms around her brother’s neck in an overjoyed hug. Justin merely grunted at her display of affection.

“I expect you to be on your best behavior until we arrive in Southampton later this evening,” Justin stated as soon as Sofie had disentangled herself from him and began to look around his cabin with open curiosity, “No climbing the rigging, no bugging any of the crew, no wearing breeches, and please just leave Dexter alone.” Sofie couldn’t help but grin at his words.

“Do not worry, I shall be a perfect angel,” she assured him. Justin groaned.

“That is exactly what I am afraid of since our definitions of an angel differ so vastly,” Justin responded, rolling his eyes as he surged to his feet, intent on returning to his duties on-deck, “Now, I must ask you to stay here while the crew and I go about cleaning the ship and preparing for this evening’s entrance into port.”

“Yes of course, go right ahead. I am quite capable of amusing myself dear brother,” Sofie replied as she took a seat in the comfortable chair behind his wooden desk.

“Sofie…” he warned.

Just then, the door of the cabin burst open without warning. Justin looked up in surprise as Dexter stood in the doorway, an extremely serious look on his face. He didn’t even notice Sofie, his eyes trained solely on Justin.

“We are under attack,” Dexter spit out, his eyes wide as if he was still trying to comprehend that fact. Justin almost groaned aloud. What more did this day have in store for them? It was only half over!

“What? By whom?” Justin finally spoke as he began to follow his best friend and second-in-command back out to the deck of the ship and looked back as an afterthought, “Sofie, stay here and do not open this door for anybody, do you hear?”

“Yes,” she quickly got out before the door was slammed and the two men left her alone in the large room that was her brother’s cabin.

“What is Sofie doing aboard?” Dexter demanded as he followed after Justin’s long strides, the two of them heading quickly toward the helm of the ship and the wheel where Quincy stood in charge, “I take it that this is her idea of not allowing you to forget about her?”

“You could say that. It’s a long story that I will explain later,” Justin ground out as he raised a spyglass to his eye and focused on the fast approaching vessel that was flying no colors, its guns trained on the Merry Georgian. “No colors on the ship, could be pirates.”

“But these waters are patrolled by the English navy,” Dexter protested as he ran a hand through his hair, “How could a ship as large as that, and not flying any colors, escape notice by the patrol boats?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Justin said as he put the spyglass away, “Quincy, prepare the guns and tell the men to stay at ready. If they intend on taking over the ship, then we shall go down fighting, is that understood?”

“Aye cap’n, I will alert the men straightaway,” Quincy agreed as he surrendered the ship’s wheel to Dexter’s care and left to carry out his orders.

“What are your plans?” Dexter questioned as he glanced at his friend.

“We shall attempt communication at first, on the small chance that we have misinterpreted their intent,” Justin began, pacing the deck as he spoke, “If that does not work, we will fire when fired upon.”

“But that means…”

“Yes, I know it means that we risk weakening the Merry Georgian, but it is a risk we must take. I will not openly fire when I do not know the true intent of the occupants aboard that ship,” Justin harshly stated, his eyes an angry blue.

Dexter sighed as he raised his eyes to the horizon, where the sun spilled from overhead. He had been through many a journey with Justin at his side, and though they’d had a few run-in with pirates before, none had seemed as serious a threat as this. He could only hope that luck would run in their favor and they would make it to Southampton without fail. After all, Justin and Sofie, two of the people he most cared about, were aboard, and he’d be damned if he let anything happen to either of them.

Suddenly, the second-in-command noticed a small object flying in the sky. As it neared, he realized it was a falcon, and that the bird seemed to be carrying something in its mouth. He thought perhaps it was just returning to its nest with food for its young, but as the falcon came closer and closer to the ship, Dexter realized that it intended to land on the deck.

“Justin…”

“The only people I have seen make use of falcons as messenger birds are the Scottish,” Justin mused to himself as he watched the bird make an elegant landing a few feet away.

“That is impossible. Why would a Scottish ship be on this side of the English shores when they have their hands full keeping the peace within their own country with all the clans that reside there?" Dexter demanded as his friend bent and retrieved the folded parchment from the bird’s beak. He received no reply from the captain.

Justin stared at the parchment in hand, a puzzled expression crossing his face. It was a Scottish ship alright, that much he had confirmed with the use of the bird, but what they wanted, he still had no clue. The message on the parchment was short and to the point, but nevertheless confusing:

Surrender Captain Justin Bennington to us and the ship and its crew will be allowed to go free and shall remain unharmed. Failure to do so will result in unfortunate consequences…

“What does it say Justin?” Dexter demanded as he noticed the pallid color his friend’s face had turned, “Have you figured out what they want?

“Me,” he quietly replied.

Chapter 2

“What do you mean they want you?’ Dexter demanded, quickly closing his mouth after it had fallen open in shock, “Why, you have never been anywhere in Scotland besides a few of their largest shipping ports, and only for a short time at that. I know that the clans are fiercely protective of their lands and families, but it is next to impossible that you gained an enemy there.”

“I know that,” Justin quietly replied as he pondered the situation, “However, we cannot rule out the possibility that maybe we angered somebody with some of our dealings through the shipping company. The Scottish are a fierce lot not to be crossed and we may have unknowingly crossed some line.”

“I highly doubt that either of us has made any enemies through our shipping company, especially with the Scottish. You remember the month we spent in Scotland when one of our ships sprung a leak; each and every person was nothing less than kind and beyond helpful,” Dexter responded.

“I remember that. However, that was only two particular clans. There are many within Scotland, and we could have angered any one of them with some business deal or some good that they did not think was up to standard,” Justin continued, fully convinced that they had erred where their business was concerned.

“I seriously doubt that you have somehow angered a Scottish clan that we have yet to do business with,” Dexter protested, “I know that many of the British are still sore over the war that occurred a few years back with America, but I don’t think the Scottish feel the need to snub us because of that folly.”

“Perhaps,” Justin agreed, still thinking, “Well then mayhap someone from another country is unhappy with some goods we have provided or the way we run our company.”

“I highly doubt that. After all, our company has that infallible reputation for being fair, considerate and reliable,” Dexter responded, doubtful of his best friend’s suggestion, “It may sound egotistical, but we take great care in providing the best for our allies and customers.”

“That is true. We have always been very generous and always fair in our dealings with any of the European countries that we ship and trade with,” Justin mused, rubbing his chin as he spoke.

“And besides, the note asks only for you, which makes no sense where our company is concerned, since it is owned and operated by the both of us,” Dexter added as an afterthought.

“Well perhaps this attack has something to do with the birthparents I am searching for,” Justin stated as he went to the railing and gazed at the ship waiting in the distance, “Mayhap somebody knows of the real reason why I was sent away from England all those years ago.”

“Perhaps, but how could that be possible?” Dexter questioned, “Surely your birthparents have no idea that you are headed to London. That is if they are still alive after all these years.” Justin frowned at his friend’s words.

“Maybe somebody here knows more than my adoptive parents or I,” Justin commented, his hands tightly gripping onto the railing, “How can we be sure that somebody has not been keeping an eye on me all those years I spent growing up on the plantation in Georgia and knows that I am now coming to London to search for my birthparents?”

“We do not. But surely somebody would have noticed if the plantation, or you for that matter, were being watched, especially over such a long period of time,” Dexter commented, once again doubtful.

“I do not know,” Justin responded, exasperated, “Bloody hell, maybe the reason my parents gave me up was because it was the only thing they could do in order to save my life or cover up some political mishap.”

“Well unless your parents happen to be the king and queen of England, which is, of course, impossible, I don’t see any reason why somebody would want to kidnap you now, even if your parents gave you up because of political reasons,” Dexter scoffed, unconvinced, “After all, it has been twenty-seven years since you crossed the seas to America and were adopted.”

“I know!” Justin cried in aggravation as he wracked a hand through his tousled curls, “I’m at a loss as to the reason for this note and its demands.”

“Well at least we have reasoned out a few of the possibilities for the reasoning behind this madness,” Dexter helpfully stated as he shrugged his shoulders, “Not that that is altogether very much help.” Justin sighed.

“So we have ruled out anything having to do with the shipping company, and most likely anything having to do with my biological parents. What other options do we have left? Pirates?” Justin demanded as he began to pace the wooden deck, his hands placed firmly on his hips.

“Bloody hell if I know,” Dexter responded as he snatched the parchment from his friend’s hands and reread the threat. It held no clue as to the writer’s true intent, “Pirates don’t exactly try to kidnap a single person from a ship they are attacking, and they don’t usually send notes of warning.”

“Justin, what is going on here?” Sofie suddenly questioned before Justin could reply.

Both men quickly whirled at the sound of her voice, both sending glares in her direction as if daring her to take another step towards them. Ignoring the looks, the young woman quickly joined her brother and his best friend on the deck near the ship’s wheel, quickly pushing back a wisp of hair that had blown into her face. Justin wanted to throttle her as she patiently waited for him to provide her with an explanation.

“Sofie, now is not the time for being stubborn and ignoring what I told you. Get back to the cabin this instant and stay put!” Justin harshly stated, annoyed at her disobedience.

“It is too dangerous for you to be up here,” Dexter said at about the same time, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, realizing the possible danger that she could be in.

The two were quite comical in their over-protectiveness, and Sofie would have burst into laughter if it wasn’t for the serious looks both men were sporting at that moment. She really should just hike her butt back to her brother’s cabin and wait there until he said so. But she couldn’t help the fact that she was stubborn and hated being treated like a child.

And both men, unbeknownst to them, where treating her exactly as that.

“If you two would quit acting like over-concerned parents then maybe you would realize that I am quite capable of taking care of myself,” she finally stated, much to the two men’s horror, “I am not a child.”

“Sofie, we know you are not a child,” Dexter gently stated as he attempted to keep his heart from beating faster in his chest due to the very desirable picture she presented. After all, she was Justin’s sister!

“My dear sister, it is just that we have no idea who may be aboard that other ship,” Justin ground out, wanting to box his sister’s ears for all the trouble she was putting him through.

“Justin is right,” Dexter firmly agreed as he placed a hand on Sofie’s upper arm, fully intent on leading her back to Justin’s cabin, “Your brother and I both care for you immensely and do not want to see anything happen to you, so it would be best for you to remain in the safety of the captain’s cabin.” Sofie sighed, realizing that this was one of the times where Dexter’s loyalty was to Justin rather than to her.

“Fine. But at least tell me what is going on instead of treating me like I am about to break,” she snapped, ignoring the way Dexter’s hand on her upper arm sent her heart racing. She would not allow her feelings for him, unreturned though they were, undermine her stubborn resolve.

“Very well,” Justin reluctantly agreed, “Do you see that ship over there?”

“That one that is not flying any colors?” Sofie questioned as soon as she spotted the smaller ship that was a few paces behind them.

“Yes, that one,” Justin confirmed, “Well apparently they seem to want to have a few words with me.”

“They want to kidnap you?” Sofie practically screeched, her eyes emitting a sisterly anger that Justin found amusing and annoying at the same time.

“It appears that way,” he lazily drawled, leaning against the railing as he waited expectantly for Sofie’s indignant outburst on his behalf. He was not disappointed.

“Why if they think that they are going to overcome this ship and simply remove you from it against your will, they certainly have another thing coming,” the young woman stated, her blue eyes flashing in incensed outrage, “I should like to give them a piece of my mind, thinking they can just walk off with my brother just because they…”

“Um, Sofie?” Dexter questioned, trying to keep a straight face as she continued to rave about the unknown ship that was asking for her brother.

“…walk right up to those no good, simple-minded fools of…”

“Sofie?” Justin tried, trying to catch his sister’s attention as she began to pace the deck in front of him and Dexter, all the while continuing her tirade on the atrocity of the situation. She was still unaware of both men.

“Sofie!!!” Dexter finally cried as he grabbed hold of the young woman by the waist in order to gain her attention and stop her frantic pacing. Instantly, the young woman was still as she stared mutely up into the handsome face of the man she wanted as her husband.

“Nobody is going to go walking off with Justin, not if I or any of the other crew members can help it,” Dexter firmly stated as he stared down into her shocked blue eyes.

“We just need to find out what this other ship wants with me. I am sure that it is just some big miscommunication,” Justin added, forcing himself not to roll his eyes as he realized his sister and his best friend were immersed in each other.

“Promise?” Sofie softly whispered as she nervously licked her dry lips.

“I promise,” Dexter confidently replied, trying to ignore the heat that poured into his veins as he watched her tongue slip back into her mouth.

She gave him a dazzling smile in thanks and he felt his heart beat rapidly in his chest. If he didn’t get away from her soon, he was bound to do the unthinkable and kiss her. Justin would yell at him; no, Justin would more likely kill him, Justin…was still standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyebrows raised in question.

Dexter immediately let go of Sofie, stepped away from her and cleared his throat. Upon hearing that sound, Sofie quickly snapped back to reality and blushed as she realized that she had had the attention of her brother all throughout the exchange with Dexter. At least he hadn’t said anything…

“If the two of you are done, I propose we get back to the problem at hand,” Justin cheekily commented as he lounged against the ship’s railing. Sofie’s blush deepened and she immediately stared at the wooden planks of the floor like it was the most interesting thing she had seen in a long while.

“So whatever do these unknown assailants want with you?” Sofie quietly questioned, her gaze still rooted to the floor.

“That’s what Dexter and I were trying to figure out,” Justin admonished.

“And unfortunately, we haven’t been able to come to a plausible conclusion in any way,” Dexter added from his position next to Justin at the railing.

“So what do you plan on doing then? Surely you are not going to oblige their request and give yourself up to them,” Sofie stated her eyes widening with horror as she spoke.

“Well I certainly don’t plan on being kidnapped from my own ship if that’s what you mean,” Justin firmly responded, chewing on his lip in thought, “Well not if I can help it, that is.”

“So you think we should fight then?” Dexter asked, surprised.

“I can see no other way around it…”

“Captain, the American ship has not yet sent a reply. Shall we proceed with the attack, or continue to hold off?” a burly, dark-haired man asked, directing his question toward his superior and friend, who stood at the ship’s wheel.

“We shall continue to wait. My orders are strict Bretton; the American captain must be taken, unharmed, so that we can deliver him to Lady Seline in Scotland,” the captain responded as he pulled out his spyglass.

He knew that Bretton, his childhood companion whom he considered one of his closest confidants, seriously doubted the decision to give chase to the American ship. But at this point, there were no other options left to him. Once the American captain, Justin Bennington, reached port and traveled to London, they would be hard-pressed to search him out.

“So ye do not actually plan on firing upon his ship?” Bretton questioned.

“Not if I can help it,” the captain responded, grimacing “The Merry Georgian is one of the fastest merchant ships to sail the seas and Scotland depends upon many of the goods she brings into port each month. Therefore, we do not want to make an enemy of her now and allow any of Scotland’s clans to suffer the consequences. That would just be inviting some of the other clans to declare war upon our own, and ye know that peace is shaky at best as it is.”

“Well since ye plan on kidnapping the ship’s captain, I don’t believe that sort of catastrophe is avoidable,” Bretton remarked as he glanced warily at the American ship, which still sailed in the direction of the English port of Southampton.

“They do not know us as Scottish, as we have not flown colors or given any indication to our affiliation with any one country,” the captain reminded, “I do not believe they have any idea who they are dealing with, which is exactly how I would like it to be.

“But how can ye be sure?” Bretton persisted, ever the devil’s advocate to his friend. The captain sighed.

“Just relay the message to the men that they are not to fire unless the order comes directly from my mouth, is that understood?” the captain stated, not wanting to further discuss the topic at hand. He hated having his decisions questioned, but as leader of his clan, he knew that would always happen, especially from those closest to him.

“As ye wish Kiefer,” Bretton responded with a slight bow, wisely knowing to leave the conversation as it stood so as not to anger his captain.

Quickly moving among the crew members, who stood tensely waiting, weapons drawn and at the ready, Bretton relayed the captain’s message. There was a collective sigh among the men, for none were all too eager to draw arms and do battle against an American ship. Especially when that ship was known for its great speed.

Back at the wheel, the captain held his spy glass to his eye, searching out the tall figure of the American captain and trying to discern what was taking place aboard the Merry Georgian. It had been some time since his pet falcon had flown and delivered the message, and there still had been no reply from the American ship. It made him somewhat uneasy.

With an aggravated sigh, the handsome young man turned away from the sight of his prey, forgetting the object of his mission for the time-being as unwanted thoughts began to force their way into his mind once again.

This mission would be his last, and most important, before he had to take over his duties to his family and clan. The freedom he so highly valued, and the seas which he so desperately loved, would be taken away from him; replaced with obnoxious social galas, stuffy chambers, and twittering, annoying females, one whom he would have to eventually wed. It was a future he was not looking forward to by any means.

But as the new leader of clan Kennedy, a position that came with much responsibility, Kiefer Scott Maximus Kennedy had no choice. The title of clan leader had been bestowed upon him at birth, as his father was the clan leader and had decreed it so. Now, with his father finally stepping down from the position, Kiefer found himself stepping into a responsibility that he did not want and feared he could not manage. But he had no choice, his future was set in stone, had been from the day of his birth and there was nothing he could do to escape it.

Clan Kennedy was situated near sea deep in highland Scotland. Much of their wealth depended upon what could be gotten from the fleet of ships that was maintained and manned by other members of the clan. He had been given the duty of overseeing these ships by his father, who had sensed the lad’s restlessness, on his twenty-first birthday.

So with a good eight years of sea travels and expeditions under his belt, it was no surprise that he was finding it difficult to give it all up for a title and birthright. His heart was married to the sea and it ached because he would no longer be able to come and go freely upon the waters which he so loved. But all of it he must give up, for he could not abandon his clan, nor ignore the oath he had given to his father to accept the responsibility of clan leader.

“Dearest brother, what has ye so down?” a female voice suddenly questioned from behind him. Keifer immediately whipped around, his brooding look replaced with one of surprise as he beheld the female form he knew so well.

“Angela what in bloody hell are ye doing here?” Keifer demanded as he took in the sight of his sister, dressed in breeches and a loose-fitting tunic, her long hair hanging down her back in a severe braid.

“Well I could not very well let ye have all the fun, now could I?” the five-foot-five brunette responded as she came to stand next to her brother at the railing, her brown eyes, a mirror to his own, sparkling, “Clan life was getting boring and monotonous, what with mother trying yet again to push me at as many eligible men as she can that our clan has to offer. I decided that instead of trying to continue to put up with her, I would take a short holiday.” Kiefer rolled his eyes at the explanation.

“Ye do realize that it is yer duty to marry and produce offspring just as it is my duty to be the clan’s leader and ensure its continued existence, right?” Kiefer wryly questioned, grinning.

Despite the shock that he had first felt upon seeing his sister on his ship, Kiefer could not help feeling that he should have seen it coming. He had known that Angela had been unhappy at the clan manor house for some time, their mother having it in her head that her eldest daughter needed to get married and produce grandchildren. Angela, he knew, was not ready for that.

Growing up as children, Kiefer and Angela had always been close. The eldest two of six children, they had been inseparable, Angela having idolized her eldest sibling ever since she could walk and trail after him. After all, the third sibling was 7 years younger than her, a mere baby when she was running about the fields, trying to keep up her brother.

It was due to their father’s doting nature, and his willingness to letting Angela have her way that she had developed such an independent and stubborn nature as a young woman. She could ride a horse, hunt, fish, field and use a sword as good as any grown man in clan Kennedy. Unfortunately, their mother found more often than not that those were qualities no man was looking for in a wife.

Angela could also do all the work required by the clan women – cooking, cleaning, mending and more specifically, running a household with a well-trained hand, however, these were not something she enjoyed in the least. More often than not Kiefer would find her dressed in breeches and a tunic, her hair tucked under a cap as she tried to pass off as a man. But she was well past the time when she should have married and put her wild ways aside.

“Yes, I realize that I must marry, but it does not mean that I am not going to have a bit of fun before I am forced to marry and give mother the grandchildren she so desires,” Angela stated, her eyes flashing with anger.

Kiefer grinned. As if she had not ever had any fun before.

“I am more than prepared to do my duty as a woman of the clan, however, I would rather do it of my own time and accord, instead of being forced by a mother who just wants grandchildren,” Angela continued on her tirade.

“Ye know mother wants to see ye happily settled and not just because she wants grandchildren,” Kiefer reminded his sister as he lounged against a railing of the pristinely-kept ship.

“Yes, I know. I just wish she would stop pushing so hard,” Angela said with a pout, “I know she’s itching to get me married so she can turn her sights on Ailise, who has been dying, for god only knows what reason, to get permission to marry Donall, who has been asking for her the past two years.”

“That is just how Ailise is and ye know that,” Kiefer stated as he thought of their third sibling, 18-year old Ailise.

“I know. I just wish mother would leave me be and concentrate on her. I would be more than happy to oblige mother with her marriage-minded ways if I was allowed to choose my husband,” Angela stated in a huff.

“What about Kerr? Has he not been after ye for the better part of five years?” Kiefer questioned his sister in reference to one of the clan’s young advisors whom had been bewitched by Angela since the moment he had laid eyes on her years ago.

“I fear the wait has worn him down and he does not show a preference for me as his wife any longer,” the younger woman glumly stated, her shoulders drooping as the words crossed her lips.

Kiefer knew that his sister more than favored Kerr Samson as a husband, especially since he was an advisor to him, her favored brother, as new clan leader. Kerr was her ideal match, but the fact that their mother had figured that out and proceeded to push Angela to accept him had made her balk and shy away from the handsome young man. There was also the fact that despite her independent and overconfident ways, deep down Angela hid the fear that she was not capable of being somebody’s wife and did not have the qualities in a wife that Kerr sought.

It did not matter that the young advisor could see no other woman and wanted no other woman than the fiery Angela Kennedy.

“Have hope Angie, I’m sure ye are mistaken,” Kiefer said as he gave his sister a reassuring smile. She just sighed, her eyes having lost some of their normal happy sparkle.

“If ye say so,” was all she stated, her voice quiet. Kiefer frowned.

“So does mother know ye are gone?” he abruptly questioned in order to change the subject, which seemed to be upsetting his sister.

“Well by now I am sure she has an idea that I am nowhere near the manor house nor on any of the clan lands, but as to whether she knows I am no longer in Scotland, I have no idea,” Angela honestly confessed, “And well, at this point, I could not care less.”

“Ye do realize that she is probably mad with worry and is most likely driving father up the wall?” Keifer dryly questioned, raising an eyebrow in his sister’s direction. She frowned.

“Perhaps I should send them a letter,” she began, worried for her father as she adored him as much as she adored her older brother.

“Or we could just dock in Southampton and I could send ye home on the next ship bound for Scotland and Kennedy lands while I finish up with my business for Aunt Seline,” Keifer countered. Angela wanted to clobber him.

“I am not going home until ye do, and that is final,” Angela stubbornly concluded as she crossed her arms over her chest. Kiefer rolled his eyes for she was exactly like their father, Ian – stubborn as a mule. But stubborn was better than the disheartened mood she had been in just moments before.

“Angela…” Kiefer warned, frowning in an effort to keep a smile from twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“Exactly what sort of business are ye doing for Aunt Seline?” Angela questioned, going on as if her brother had not said anything.

Truth be told, she was trying her hardest to distract him from the subject of sending her back to Scotland. She was not yet ready to face her mother, much less Kerr, who had asked her to marry him again. Especially since she had, for the most part, run away from home by stowing away on her brother’s ship.

Kiefer sighed. His sister just had to be outspoken, stubborn, and used to getting her way, didn’t she? It made things very difficult for him, for as much as he thought she needed to settle down and forget her wild ways, he still doted upon her, his favorite sibling. Unfortunately for him, that meant that he had the hardest time saying no to her.

And this time was no exception. There was no doubt that he would give in and allow her to stay, despite the fact that it was against his better judgment. He should, after all, send her home as quickly as possible as their parents must be sick with worry. But he knew he would not be able to force himself to do it.

Sisters. He rolled his eyes. One was enough, but he was blessed with four. His only brother, Ranald, Ran for short, came right in the middle of the four girls as the fourth child of six and was a mere sixteen years old, too young to have to worry about protecting his sisters and knowing the ways of women. At least, that was Kiefer’s opinion. He refrained from smiling as he thought about the way his young brother was more often than not caught staring at some fair maid of clan Kennedy, very much a Kennedy male and very much like Kiefer was at that age.

“Come on brother dearest, do tell me about what Aunt Seline has asked of you. After all, nobody ever seems to bother to tell me anything anyway, even though I am twenty-five years old,” Angela announced with a glare in her brother’s direction for his prolonged silence, “I am a grown woman, fully capable of making my own decisions, not some sheltered child like everybody makes me out to be.”

“Angie, I know that mother still treats ye as if you are five and I am sorry that she does. I know she can be overbearing and insufferable at times, but it is just her way of loving us,” Kiefer stated, running a hand through his hair as he spoke, “I do not mind telling ye what I know, however, the details of this mission Aunt Seline has sent me on are very few.”

“Well tell me what ye know then. I am sure I could be of some help, despite what mother may think,” Angela stated with a scowl.

“All that Aunt Seline asked of me was to bring Justin Bennington, the successful American shipping merchant, to the Kennedy manor house in Scotland. She wishes to have an audience with him for some reason and prefers that it be on home soil,” Kiefer revealed, “Ye know how much she detests even leaving the Kennedy lands, much less Scotland.”

“That is all she told ye?” Angela questioned, confused.

“Yes,” Kiefer assured her.

“It is very unlike Aunt Seline to be so secretive, especially with us, her family,” Angela stated, the details of the mission striking her as out of the ordinary, “Do ye have any idea what she might want with Justin Bennington? Surely she must have a rational explanation, as I am almost convinced that she has never met the man before.”

“That is what I was thinking,” Kiefer agreed, shrugging, “But I am sure once we get Bennington back to the manor and to see Aunt Seline, we will figure everything out.” Angela quickly nodded her head in agreement.

“So what is yer plan to get this American to Scotland then?” she questioned, curious as she watched her brother pull out his spy glass and look in the direction of a ship in the distance, “Surely ye do not mean to just kidnap him, do ye?”

“Well, that was the idea,” Kiefer dryly responded as he lowered the spy glass to give his sister a boyish grin. She rolled her eyes.

“Men,” she grumbled.

“I take it ye do not agree?” her brother demanded.

“Of course I do not. Kidnapping the man off his own ship? That would surely make an enemy of him, and it would be all the harder to get him to Scotland,” Angela commented, leaning on the railing as she spoke, “If Aunt Seline just wants to talk to him, then ye had best find a way to convince that American to go with ye, rather than force him.”

“And how do ye propose I do that?” Kiefer demanded, raising a dubious eyebrow in his sister’s direction.

“Ye could try talking to him once he lands in Southampton,” Angela dryly suggested, “Surely that would not hurt anything.”

“And what would ye have me tell him? That a Scottish woman of the Kennedy clan wishes to have an audience with him, but that he must go to meet her in the heart of the highlands? Surely ye know how foolish that request would be. No foreigner enjoys going into the highlands unless they have pressing business there or unless they are forced there,” Kiefer explained, “And besides, I know as a shipping merchant, he has a tight schedule to keep and most likely does not have the extra time to make a stop into Kennedy lands.”

Angela went to protest, but the words died on her lips as her brother’s pet falcon made a smooth landing on the deck a few feet away. A small piece of parchment was attached to one leg and when he noticed it, Kiefer immediately strode forward to retrieve it.

His heart beat in his chest as he began to unfold what he hoped was a reply from the American vessel. Indeed, it was, however, what was written on the parchment was not what he was expecting.

Prepare to fight.

“He wants to fight,” Kiefer mused, mostly to himself.

“What? Surely ye know this is insanity,” Angela cried, her brown eyes growing wide, “Ye know as well as I that the men we have aboard the ship are seasoned warriors who are more than prepared to fight to the death if it is required of them.”

“I know that and ye should realize I do not want to fight him,” Kiefer told his sister, trying to soothe her worry, “I just do not understand how Aunt Seline expects me to bring this American in without hurting him when he is not being cooperative in any way.”

“Perhaps ye should take my suggestion and allow him to dock in Southampton,” Angela spoke up, “It could not hurt to at least try and talk to him before ye kidnap him to Scotland and make an enemy of him.”

“I just do not believe anything would come of that,” Kiefer returned as he eyed the American vessel that was slowly beginning to pull away from his ship.

“Kiefer!” Bretton suddenly called out as he hurried over to the captain’s side, his face drained of its usual color, which was unusual for his friend, who was also a seasoned warrior. Kiefer immediately became alert to the fact that something was not right.

“What is it Bretton?” the captain demanded.

“The British navy is approaching,” the second-in-command got out, obviously shaken up, “What do ye propose we do? We do not fly any colors right now and could be mistaken for pirates.”

“What of the Merry Georgian?” Kiefer immediately demanded, cursing the fact that he was losing his prey and would most likely have to change his plans in order to complete this mission for his aunt.

“The American ship has already received clearance to dock into port and is, at this moment, preparing to do so,” Bretton revealed, much to Kiefer’s utter chagrin.

“We must retreat then,” Kiefer deftly stated, “Until the ship can be prepared to fly our country’s colors and receive clearance to dock in Southampton, then we have no choice but to give up the chase at this time.”

“Fine with me Kiefer, shall I inform the crew?” Bretton responded, relief causing color to infuse back into his cheeks.

“Yes,” Kiefer agreed, “After that is done, we shall steer a course back out to sea where we may anchor for a few days to get the ship ready to dock in Southampton.”

“Are ye going to try to talk to the American then?” Angela suddenly questioned, reminding her brother that he was not alone at the ship’s wheel.

“It appears that is the only option I have right now.”

The Merry Georgian’s prow cut through the murky waters of the southern British sea port as the sun began to set behind her, showing nothing but emptiness, the vessel who had been pursuing her long gone. The docks they sailed towards were alive with activity, but were calmer and a little more welcoming than those of her more northern sister, the London docks. Fewer boats bobbed about in the choppy waves that lapped at the shore and Justin was thankful to note that there seemed to be fewer people roaming about the land.

After the attempted kidnapping of his being, he wanted to dock into the port as inconspicuously as possible.

As soon as the signal was given to dock, the ship’s crew hurriedly readied the vessel. Ropes were tied down, sails were folded back and the rigging was restored to non-sailing position. In no time flat, the Merry Georgian rested quietly against a dock, moored tight to withstand the choppy early evening tide. Her crew quickly made for shore as soon as the captain had secured the paperwork to dock for the evening.

Justin sighed as he returned to his cabin to fetch his belongings and his sister. They would find lodging for the evening and then set out for London in the morning. A coach would now have to be hired, thanks to his sister, though he still fully intended to make the ride on horseback himself. With an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he knocked on the cabin door as he called his sister’s name. She quickly opened the door, ready to depart.

“Are we staying here for the evening?� Sofie questioned her brother as she fell in step beside him, her valise clutched in her hand.

“Yes, we set out for London in the morning,� Justin confirmed as he slung his knapsack over his shoulder, “We’ll hire a coach for the ride and hopefully arrive by mid-afternoon.�

“Where will we stay?� Sofie questioned, curiosity plainly written on her face. Justin heaved a sigh and quickly hid his annoyance with his sister for thwarting his carefully laid plans.

“The last time I was in London, I was fortunate enough to meet up with our father’s friend from Eton,� Justin explained while helping his sister ashore, “He has a small title, but is able to reside in a well-to-do district of London, thanks to his marriage to a count’s daughter. They invited me to stay with them the next time I was in London, so I dispatched a note to them with a courier ship prior to my departure from Georgia. I expect to have a response waiting at the inn.�

“I see. I’m sure that would be perfectly agreeable to mama and papa, so I will tell them that in the letter I send them,� his sister responded, then suddenly began to look worried, “Oh dear, will I be in need of nicer gowns? I don’t want our hosts to think that I am some sort of hoyden or that mama and papa haven’t taken care of me.�

Justin almost laughed aloud. While his sister couldn’t care less what she did around those back at their home in Georgia, Sofie was most afraid of offending those she did not know. It would be interesting to see how she reacted to Lord and Lady McNair and their large, boisterous family, whom he had met on a previous occasion.

Edward McNair and Peter Bennington had become fast friends in their days at Eton – the school where all well-to-do and wealthy young men were sent to finish their education and become well-rounded individuals. McNair was the son of a somewhat wealthy country squire, Bennington the son of a landed knight, so neither had aspirations nor false ideas that they would be readily accepted by the sons of higher titled and wealthier lords. It was the main reason they had quickly become friends.

Upon completion of their school days, Peter had set his sights on the colonies, urging his friend to accompany him. He was the second son of his father, would never inherit the small amount of land his father had been granted and so thought to gain land in the Americas – having heard that after the revolution that had gained that country it’s independence from noble England, there was land aplenty to be had by anyone willing to pay the price. The two of them had quickly made plans to set sail together the following month once their affairs had been put to order.

Then Edward McNair had met Sarah Crandall, the youngest daughter of James Crandall, count of Ashford and a wealthy, powerful man. Despite the fact that his title was not lofty, and his wealth not quite as vast as the Crandall’s, Edward had fallen hopelessly in love with the beautiful young woman. It was then that their plans had been put on hold while Peter patiently waited for Edward to say farewell to the pretty lass and join him on the journey to America.

However, that was not to be, for it was a mere four months after the two had met that Sarah and Edward, with the whole-hearted permission of her father who had taken with the young squire, married. Peter, needless to say, was shocked and found himself at a loss of what to do. It was during that time that he met Julie Parkwood, the paid companion of one of his elderly aunts.

Soon, Peter found himself head over heels in love and a marriage followed within the year, with Peter then setting off to America to begin to build a home for himself and his new bride. Once Julie had joined him, the years passed quickly and quietly with the two friends on different continents. Letters kept them close friends and it had been for this reason Lord Edward McNair had sought Justin out the last time he had been in London.

Though Justin had been thrilled to meet the man – whom he had taken an almost instant liking to, the man could shed no light on Justin’s birth parents nor the reason surrounding his trip to America. The time had been filled with turmoil and political upheaval, with the thought of war at the forefront of all the peoples’ minds. So he had quickly been informed that while being sent to another continent seemed rather unusual, he had not been the only child who had been removed from a rather chaotic England.

So at the present time, Justin had very little to go on in the search for his birth parents. The only thing he could do was go to London, ask questions, search and take every path that might lead to who he truly was. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, but it was something he just had to do.

“What did you bring with you?� Justin finally questioned his sister, as he eyed her over-packed valise. Sofie, as he had come to know through the years growing up with her, was not wont to traveling without an ample amount of clothing.

“A few changes of clothes in this valise and more in the other one I left in your cabin,� Sofie stated as they walked the streets towards the Rosewood Inn where Dexter had gone to secure lodging for the night.

“Well I’m sure the McNair’s will insist upon entertaining us as guests, however, I don’t…� Justin began.

“I didn’t bring any evening gowns with me!� Sofie interrupted, her eyes wide and cheeks pale with horror, “Oh Justin, I’m going to be a laughingstock!� Justin had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at his sister’s ridiculous statement.

“Stop your worrying dear sister,� he cajoled, amusement coloring his voice, “If you need something while we are here, I will be more than happy to provide you with the means to do so. You are my sister and you know that I will look out for you no matter what, even if that means buying you some new gowns.�

“Oh Justin, thank you!� Sofie exclaimed, gracing her brother with a wide smile and sparkling eyes, appreciation shining from their depths.

It was in this manner that Dexter saw her as he waited for them outside the Rosewood Inn. He felt his heart flop in his chest and his blood began to race as her blue eyes came to rest on him. He swallowed thickly, feeling like his tongue had swollen twice its size inside his mouth.

“Dex?� Justin questioned, wondering why his friend seemed to be transfixed by something.

“Hmm?� Dexter distractedly questioned, his eyes dropping to Sofie’s lips as she unconsciously licked the bottom one, a habit of her’s he had come to find was quite distracting.

“Have you gotten rooms for the night?� Justin continued on, another amused smile gracing his lips as he realized his friend was staring at Sofie. Maybe he was actually quite wrong about Dexter being married to the sea…

“What? Oh, yes, I was able to get two rooms for the night,� Dexter said, shaking himself and dragging his eyes to Justin, “Quincy returned a few minutes ago and was able to find a maid willing to lend her services to Sofie and travel with us to London. I already settled her into Sofie’s room and came to an agreement about her wages.�

“How much…� Justin began, but his friend cut him off.

“I’ve already taken care of it,� Dexter said, much to his friend’s surprise, “It was the least I could do.�

“Thank you Dex,� Sofie shyly stated as she smiled up at him through her lashes. He nodded his head in response, missing the knowing grin that Justin was sending in his direction.

“Dex, if you would see Sofie to the safety of her room, I am going to go see about hiring a coach for tomorrow’s journey,� Justin announced as he handed his knapsack to Dexter, “I’ll join the two of you as soon as I can for dinner. If it gets late, go ahead and dine without me.�

Without waiting for a response, Justin strode away, pulling his cloak tighter about his wide shoulders to ward off the chill that was beginning to creep into the early evening breeze. Southern England was supposedly known for its warmer climes, but he felt it was nothing compared to his sunny Georgia. Oh how he longed for the cheery faces of the people he knew so well and the smell of the cotton growing in the fields…

His head somewhat in the clouds with visions of the homeland he was suddenly missing, he roamed the streets, looking for an establishment from which he could rent a coach for the journey to London. Upon sighting such a building, he quickly went in. A shorter, older man glanced up from a desk from which a candle burned. He appeared to be the only soul in the well-kept building.

The man, like the interior of the building was immaculately dressed from what Justin could see. His tunic and cravat were crisp and finely pressed, his overcoat made of the finest materials. The crown of thick white hair upon his head was neatly combed and not even a shadow of whiskers adorned the wrinkle-lined face, which bespoke of years of smiling and laughter.

“Can I help you?� the man finally questioned, his tone crisp as he stood from the paperwork he had been bent over.

“I’m looking to rent a coach for the journey to London in the morning,� Justin stated as he stepped towards the desk and into the feeble light of the solitary candle.

The man behind the desk suddenly gasped, his eyes wide as he stared at the young man. He couldn’t speak, his tongue fumbling over his teeth in an effort to formulate words. But no words would come, only a strangled, gurgling sound.

“Are you alright?� Justin worriedly questioned as he leaned towards the distressed man and placed a hand on a shoulder that was surprisingly stronger than it looked.

“Fine,� the man wheezed, trying to give himself a mental shake and get his emotions under control, “You just remind me of somebody I used to know. Somebody whom I lost a long time ago.�

“I’m very sorry,� Justin replied, straightening away from the man.

Though he longed to question the elder about the person he had used to know and why Justin had reminded him of the man, to press the shopkeeper for such information would be rude and more than a little cruel. The man was obviously still deeply wounded by the loss of his friend or lover, or whomever, and Justin was not one to rub salt on an open hurt. So he merely let the man’s explanation pass with a slight shrug of his shoulders. It most likely was not important to his search anyway.

“Ah, forgive an old man, my boy. I merely got lost in my memories when I first glanced up at you,� the older man said with a nonchalant wave of his hand, “Now, a coach to London you say?�

Unbeknownst to Justin, though the shopkeeper appeared to be in control, his crisp tone conveying a calm façade, inside his mind was racing. For years he had sat idly by, condemned to this godforsaken shipping port, constantly watched, constantly harassed, and thoroughly angry. But now, with the appearance of this man, perhaps he could manage to gain back what was rightfully his and bring about an end to this silly little dance they all had been doing for so many unbearable years.

However, he would have to proceed with caution, as he knew, without a doubt, that danger lurked at every corner. That, oh that he had learned the hard way. And that was a mistake he was not bound to make twice.

“Yes sir,� Justin confirmed as the man began to shuffle through some ledgers, “Tomorrow morning if that is at all possible.�

“Well I have one coach left,� the man began as he eyed the younger gentleman, “But the coachman has recently come down with an illness and is unable to drive. However, if you would not mind my company overmuch, I would be happy to take you myself.�

“Of course, that would be no problem at all Mr. …�

“I go by Wallace these days – John Wallace,� the man stated, a strange glisten, akin to anger, suddenly appearing in his eye, “I’m the owner here and have been for the past twenty-seven years.� As soon as the glisten had appeared though, it was gone and the man was once again open and friendly.

“A pleasure to meet you sir. Now, as for price…�

The two men quickly got down to business and in a few moments, all the plans for the next morning were determined. Justin waited patiently as the man blew out the candle and began to close up his shop. Restless and not quite wanting to return to the Rosewood Inn just yet, he opted to join Wallace for a mug of ale at a tavern a few blocks over.

The pair settled in at the tavern, which was about half full at that point and began to talk as a barmaid brought their ale over. The conversation was light as Justin recounted his life in Georgia and the family he had grown up with while Wallace listened. He refrained from mentioning anything about being adopted and the search for his true parents, readily replying to the few questions Wallace asked about his family and his livelihood. Justin, for some reason, felt like he was beginning to like and trust the man, even though he had known him for such a short amount of time. However, he wanted to keep his true intentions to himself until he could make heads or tails of his attempted kidnapping earlier that evening.

When Justin finally roused himself, remembering that he was supposed to have dinner with Dexter and Sofie, a good forty-five minutes had passed. Justin grinned and with a few last words to Wallace, the two men headed in opposite directions for the night, Justin whistling as he went. His spirits were lifted now that his search was about to begin.

Back inside the tavern, a man with fair hair and eyes as black as night took a sip of his ale, a grim smile on his thin lips. After being idle for so long, he finally had some work that needed to be done. That American merchant would have no idea what hit him and the plan that had been conceived years ago would continue to be successful.

As long as that fool Wallace did not screw it up. The man had no idea how Justin Bennington had come across Wallace, but he was going to make sure the elder man did not utter a word about what he knew. Tomorrow he would see to that.

Tomorrow. Ah yes, tomorrow he would finish what had been started years ago. And with a chuckle, he finished up his ale, tossed down a few coins and disappeared into the night, a black shadow indiscernible amidst the moonless skies.

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Fog that had rolled through the town in the early morning hours was gone by the time Justin, Sofie and Dexter descended the stairs for breakfast. Wordlessly they ate, Sofie still rubbing sleepily at her eyes as she sat with the two men while early morning light cast large, playful shadows across the inn’s floor.

The clip clop of horses’ hooves and the rumbling of carriage wheels could be heart outside not fifteen minutes later. Quickly finishing up his breakfast, Justin approached the innkeeper to settle their bill as Dexter helped Sofie don her cloak, grab her valise and prepare to depart. The trio then exited the inn where they were met outside with a bustle of activity.

John Wallace had arrived with the coach, a gleaming black structure that would comfortably seat four and was pulled by two magnificent gray thoroughbreds. A black stallion was tethered to the back of the coach, obviously the mount Wallace had brought along for Justin to ride as he did not wish to ride in the confines of the coach. Wallace was in the process of descending from the drivers seat as they approached, barking orders to Quincy and a couple of Justin’s other crew members as he went. Justin could not help but smile.

“Good morning Wallace,� Justin greeted as he approached the elder man.

“A good morning to you too Mr. Bennington,� Wallace responded as he approached the trio, “I trust you slept well?�

“Very much,� the younger man responded as he motioned Dexter and Sofie over, “This is my sister, Miss Sofie Bennington…�

Sofie immediately dipped into a curtsey and a huge grin subsequently broke out on Wallace’s face. With all the grace the man could muster, he slipped into a bow before capturing the young woman’s hand and placing a kiss upon it. Justin almost snorted with laughter at the extravagant display and knew, without a doubt, that Wallace must have been quite a rake in his younger days.

“A pleasure miss,� Wallace stated as soon as they rose from greeting, “It is good to see that we will have the pleasant company of the fairer sex.�

“Well I’m not sure my brother would agree that I am pleasant company, but we shall just ignore his inability to make sound decisions,� Sofie teased, sending a grinning glance towards her brother, who merely rolled his eyes at the jest.

Wallace threw back his head and laughed.

“Ah, right fine company you will be for the trip to London,� the man concluded before turning his attention to the man he had yet to be introduced to.

“And this is Mr. Dexter O’Keefe, my best friend and my second mate,� Justin said as Wallace held out his hand, which Dexter promptly shook.

“Good to see that Miss Sofie has more than one protector,� Wallace bluntly stated, having immediately picked up on the fact that this man, like Justin, was protective of the beautiful young miss. And possibly felt more for her, as he noticed the way Dexter’s eyes rested on Sofie in more than just a friendly, protective manner.

“I do try,� was all Dexter responded with, a smile gracing his lips as he took an immediate liking to the elder man.

“Well we shall be ready to depart in approximately ten minutes time. Mr. Bennington, the stallion shall be your mount, as you requested, though I will warn you that he is a spirited thing,� Wallace stated, his eyes twinkling.

“I’m sure that I can handle him,� Justin dryly responded, grinning.

“Indeed, I’m sure you are correct.�

With that Wallace, turned away to ensure that everything was readied in the correct manner and with all haste.

The Merry Georgian’s men who had accompanied Quincy were loading Justin and Dexter’s large traveling trunks, and Sofie’s second valise into the boot below the coach, along with a couple other small pieces of baggage that Justin was not wont to leave behind on his ship. This would be an extended trip, until he finally had an answer, so he was not about to take the chance of leaving something behind here in Southampton that he could possibly need while in London. It made for a rather loaded down coach, although Wallace said not a word to that as he oversaw, with great care, that the trio’s belongings were properly stored for the ride to London.

As soon as everything had been loaded, Quincy stepped towards his captain’s side, intent on getting the final orders before they departed. He, as third mate, was going to be left in charge of seeing to the ship while the captain was in London. Justin would send word of what the plans would be for the Merry Georgian as soon as they got settled into London. More likely than not, with an extended stay in the large city on the horizon, Justin would have Quincy and the rest of the crew move the ship to dock in London’s bustling port.

But until that order came, Quincy and the men had been told to keep the ship in high maintenance and to stay out of trouble, an easy task for the loyal crew. They doted upon their captain and would never do anything to besmirch his name or allow harm to come to the ship.

“The orders are the same Quincy,� Justin stated to the burly third mate, running a hand through his tousled curls as he spoke, “Keep to the ship and make sure that no harm comes to her. You and the crew know your responsibilities as far as personal time goes and I will send word as soon as I have made a decision about moving the Merry Georgian to London.�

“Very good cap’n, we await yer orders,� Quincy said with a slight bow at the waist, “Have a safe journey.�

“Thank you Quincy,� Justin concluded before the man turned away and took the other sea hands with him to return to the ship for the morning’s rituals of deck cleaning and sail repair.

“Are we prepared to depart?� Justin questioned as he turned to Dexter, who was in the process of helping Sofie into the coach.

“It appears that way,� the shorter man responded with a nod to Wallace as the elder man ascended to the driver’s seat. Justin breathed a sigh of relief, anxious to begin the journey to London.

He quickly mounted the stallion, pleased to note that the horse responded immediately to his gentle but firm hand. He greatly enjoyed riding a horse, and this one was obviously of the finest quality, much like his own horse Trouble, a spirited thoroughbred that had been a gift for his fifteenth birthday. He knew without a doubt that he would enjoy the ride as long as the rain England was known for would hold off for the day.

A few moments later, with a flip of the reins and a short cluck, Wallace set the coach into motion and the journey began. Justin immediately followed, somewhat lost in thought as he pondered what London would hold in store for him.

He had received word from Lord and Lady McNair the previous day that the three of them would be more than welcome to make residence at the Englishman’s townhouse for the duration of their trip. They had plenty of available guestrooms and since the social season had yet to start in London, life at the townhouse was rather slow-paced. Three American guests would be a welcome change to the house’s occupants.

Justin was more than grateful for this, as it meant that he did not have to go about securing rooms at a hotel for an extended period of time. There was also the fact that, with the connection to the McNair’s, he would have an introduction into some of the higher circles of London society. That, he hoped, would be a key to unlocking his past. Just as long as he played his cards right and ruthlessly went after his goal without letting anything distract him, he should be able to quickly make headway.

Which, he knew, was going to be next to impossible. The McNair’s had seven children ranging in age from the eldest son of twenty-four years, to the youngest daughter at eight years of age, with five children – two more sons and three daughters, in between. It made for a rather rambunctious household, especially when all the younger children – 8-year old Catherine, 11-year old Anthony and 12-year old Whitney, seemed to adore him.

He smiled to himself as he thought of the three youngsters, who had kept up an incessant chatter with him when they had first been introduced and had wanted to follow after him wherever he went, much to their mother’s horror. Justin, though, loved children and s0 he had found himself laughing and smiling as he entertained the three younger McNair’s. It had made for a pleasant day and, he was quite convinced, what had earned him the invitation to stay at their townhouse the next time he was in London.

With a grin and a shake of his head, Justin quickly turned his attention to the terrain as the sea port began to give way to the rolling green hills that England was known for. A soft breeze wafted through the air bringing with it the scent of early morning dew and flowers that were just beginning to grow in that early spring season. The rain, for the moment, appeared to be a no-show, something for which he was immensely grateful. He had no desire to ride on horseback through the rain.

As they traveled and put the sea port farther and farther behind them with the passing hours, Justin felt a sense of peace overcome him. Birds chirped through the trees and the sun shown brightly, though not as harshly as the Georgia sun he was used to, especially thanks to the great trees that lined the worn path they were traveling. If this truly was where he was destined to make his home, it might not be all that bad.

They stopped for a midday meal in the early afternoon when the sun shown brightest in the sky and large oak trees cast long shadows along the lane they were traveling. Wallace brought the horses to a halt once they reached the small rustic town that was their stopping point. It was a place that appeared to be home to a good number of people as there were many shops and trade buildings as well as two taverns, an inn, a church and what appeared to be a mail station.

Following Wallace’s lead, Justin tied his horse to a hitching post outside one of the taverns. He stretched, trying to work out a cramp in his leg from the long ride. He groaned as his fingers kneaded a particularly tight knot in his left thigh, which was due mostly to the inactivity for the past couple hours but also to the fact that he had been away from horses and riding for a few months.

“As long as we don’t tarry too long here, we will make it to London long before nightfall,� Wallace stated as he approached the young man after seeing to the comfort of the horses.

“Well then we shouldn’t spend more time here than is necessary,� Justin replied as he watched with amusement as Dexter helped Sofie out of the carriage, his arm never leaving her side.

“Very good, I’ll just await you out here then,� Wallace concluded.

“Please, join us,� Justin invited as he gave the older man a friendly smile, “I’m sure you would much rather enjoy our company than eating alone or with the stable lads.�

“Ah, you are very observant my dear boy,� Wallace responded, his eyes twinkling, “I’m a man used to spending hours alone at my shop, so if there is good company to be had, I readily seek it.�

“Then it’s settled,� Justin concluded before leading the way into the tavern, Sofie and Dexter bringing up the rear of the group.

It was not thirty minutes later that the four of them were back on the road again, their bellies full and their appetites sated. Wallace had provided the group with a few amusing tales of his childhood and not a one of them could hold back their laughter. It had proved to be a rather enjoyable meal, however, Justin was now anxious as they put miles behind them and pulled ever closer to London and the search that awaited him there.

Was this all in vain? Was he truly searching for a needle in a haystack? Or would he end up finding his real family? And if he did, what on earth would he say to them? Or better yet, would he be able to forgive them for sending him away as a baby?

All those questions, Justin had no answer to. His mind was a whirl of broken thoughts, his eyes unseeing as the horse he rode trotted at a leisurely gate after the carriage.

All of a sudden, a loud bang split the air, jolting Justin from his thoughts and almost sending him straight to the ground as his horse reared at the sudden sound. Valiantly he pulled on the reins and was thankfully able to get his mount under control without landing in the dirt on his behind. Once that feat was accomplished, he began to search the surrounding area for the source of the gun shot.

And there was certainly no doubt about it that the noise that he had heard was the sound of gunfire.

It took him no time at all to locate the source of it. A group of five riders were behind him and the carriage Wallace drove, all of them dressed in black, all of them brandishing weapons. A weaker man might have become frightened at the sight of that group of men, but Justin just felt his jaw clench in anger at the interruption that would delay his search even further. It didn’t even cross his mind to be frightened by the danger they could possibly be in.

“Highway thieves,� Wallace called as Justin drew his horse even with the coach and the elder driver, “Not too much of a surprise in these parts, though they usually favor the cover of darkness to catch their prey unawares.�

“What do you propose we do?� Justin questioned as he threw a quick glance at the fast-approaching group of riders.

“I would say we should stand and fight, but for the sake of your sister being present I suggest the best course of action would be to try and outrun them until we get to the next town, which is home to a few families of the ton. That town employs soldiers who would be more than willing to come to our aid,� Wallace explained, his grip on the reins tight.

“It sounds like a good plan to me,� Justin agreed as he pulled out his pistol and checked it for ammunition, “I’ll follow you and protect the rear. Just keep my sister safe.�

“Of course,� Wallace returned.

“Justin, you want me to cover your back?� Dexter suddenly questioned from an open window of the carriage, having overheard the entire conversation between his friend and the carriage driver.

“Of course Dex,� Justin returned, “I didn’t come all this way just to be shot before I even reach London.� Dexter grinned.

“Well you know I don’t miss my mark,� the dark-haired man stated, his eyes twinkling, “And I sure as hell don’t plan on starting that trend now.�

“Good,� Justin replied, smiling, “Just make sure you keep Sofie out of sight and out of the line of fire if that should happen.�

“Aye Captain,� Dexter saluted before turning back to the interior of the carriage to prepare his weapons.

Justin gave a nod to Wallace and with a slap of the reins, the elder man sent the horses into a great gallop. They sped across open planes of land, their long legs firm and sure upon the ground. Quickly, as soon as he had his weapon ready, Justin spurred his horse after them.

In no time at all, the five men on horseback were left behind and out of sight. However, it quickly became apparent that they would not get away so easily. The riders were soon back in sight, having spurred their mounts to galloping after the carriage and appeared to be gaining ground.

Justin clenched his jaw in anger. Was there no end to this? Was he going to be constantly hounded while he was in England? And did it have something to do with his search for his true family?

Again, he had no answers. Only the sound of galloping horses hooves and the looming danger of the five highway thieves.

“I cannot marry him!� the young woman stated, her jaw set in a stubborn line, hazel eyes flashing in anger and defiance.

“You can and you will,� her mother, who was an exact copy of the young woman except for the eyes, retorted as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“How can you not see that Samuel Dawes is a vain, self-absorbed peacock, interested in nothing outside his own comforts and amusements?!?� the young woman demanded as she paced the room in agitation, “Mother, do you not understand or care how unhappy I would be married to such a man?�

“Oh rubbish,� the elder retorted with a roll of her green eyes, “The man is a duke. He has enough riches to last for more than one lifetime, with numerous estates and land holdings as well as a well-known, strong familial line. You will not be able to find a better candidate to marry than if you married the king’s son if he had one.�

“That doesn’t matter to me!� the young woman cried, “You and papa got your chance for true love and happiness, now why can I not have mine as well?�

“Your father and I had an arranged marriage too,� the older woman reminded her daughter, “In time, we came to love each other. Neither of us expected it to happen, but it did, and it could be exactly the same for you my dear.�

“Well by condemning me to an arranged marriage, you are almost completely taking away my chances of finding love,� the young woman practically yelled, her infamous fiery temper starting to get the better of her, “Why, the very idea of such a thing is archaic!�

“But your father and the duke have already agreed…�

“I do not care if Samuel Dawes paid father twice what my dowry is, I shall not marry a man who does not love me and is obligated to become my husband because of a betrothal contract,� the young woman interrupted.

“What would you have me do?� the older woman demanded, raising a brow at her offspring, “You know how stubborn your father can be when he gets something into his head. And you know, because he dotes on you, he wants nothing but the best for you, a husband who can be your equal and can provide you every comfort you could ever dream of.�

“Perhaps, though, papa has forgotten that what matters most to me, in a husband, is that he loves me,� the young woman retorted with a roll of her eyes.

“Nicole…�

“Mama, please. Do not force me to marry Samuel Dawes. Let me choose a husband of my own instead of forcing me into a union with a man who has no interest in me other than in the siring of heirs,� the young woman pleaded as she sank onto the sofa next to her mother.

“You know very well that I cannot let you do that. It would cause too much scandal in society’s circles, and with the title your father holds, it would bode very ill to cause an uproar in the upper echelons of the ton’s circles,� the elder snapped with a frown, “No, you will do as your father says and marry the Duke of Eversfeld.�

“Perhaps you did not hear me mother,� the young woman ground out as she surged to her feet, “I will not marry the man and that is final!�

With that last statement, the young woman swept out of the room, leaving her speechless mother behind to try and come to grips with her daughter’s stubbornness.

To say she was angry was a definite understatement. The fact that her parents were choosing her future for her, that they did not stop to consider her feelings and wishes, put her in a temper of the worst sort. She needed to have a few private moments to herself, where she could think, away from her mother and the whispers of the household servants; a few private moments where she could come to grips with the road her life was taking.

Nicole Elaine Ashby had lived a privileged life from the day she was born. As the third and youngest child of Daniel and Jennifer Ashby, Duke and Duchess of Halifax, she had wanted for nothing. Except the one thing that she was unable to have: freedom.

Freedom, however, was going to be forever out of her reach, as long as she was under the rule of her parents and the society that governed those of her social circle. She would have to marry, produce an heir and become one of those party-throwing nobleman’s wives. All that, she had already accepted. But an arranged marriage?

She thought the idea archaic and out of date; an idea that should have been abolished long ago. Why should a young woman be forced to marry a man she didn’t love solely because he was her equal in social status alone? Unfortunately, not many of the older generation, which her parents were a part of, saw her point of view and agreed with it.

But she was adamant in her position. She had already witnessed a cousin struggling through an arranged marriage, devoid of love and devotion, and she knew without a doubt, she would do whatever it took to avoid such a state for herself. This is why she was still unmarried as of today, at twenty-two, and causing her parents an incessant amount of worry because she refused every man who asked for her hand.

But she would not settle for less than love and devotion from the man she was to call husband and share the rest of her life with.

And those who knew her well enough, knew without a doubt, that she would not waver from her stance. If she was nothing else, she was surely as stubborn as a mule, a trait which many knew she inherited from her father. Paired with the fiery temper that her mother was known for, she was a hard person to cross, and an even harder person to try and convince to change her mind once she had gotten something into her head.

Many a young men her age found her quite amusing and a challenge to keep up with in the wits department. Yet many of those same men were also too terrified to contemplate marriage to such a spitfire of a woman. They wanted a meek, obedient, willing wife; she fit none of those requirements.

This was not to say she hadn’t had any offers of marriage. On the contrary, her beauty alone had attracted many a men’s attention, and despite the stubbornness and temper she also possessed, she had received countless offers for her hand in marriage. She had refused every last one of them, much to the chagrin of her parents, who had allowed her, perhaps unwisely, to have some say in who she was to marry.

So after five successful seasons in London’s social arena with the upper crust of the ton, and as of yet, still unmarried, her parents had taken it upon themselves to see that she was suitably settled, and soon. This meant that she would most likely be forced to marry a man she did not love and who did not love her in return. It also meant that perhaps she’d have to learn to compromise and not be so stubborn all the time.

Stifling a sigh of frustration, Nicole determinedly walked to the stables where her horse Ginny, a beautiful Arabian mare, was kept. She didn’t care who saw her in a pair of her brother’s old breeches and tunic, her typical riding outfit when she wasn’t around her parents. After all, she was on her family’s country estate, and the only people about were servants, who didn’t dare whisper to their employer what his daughter was doing for fear of retaliation on the daughter’s part.

After saddling the horse up without the help of the shocked groomsman, who had no words for her inappropriate attire, she climbed into the saddle and was off, coursing across the lawn of her family’s manor house at the breakneck speed she loved. The wind whipped through her long dark locks, which she had left haphazardly hanging down her back, the cheery warmth of that spring day invigorating after being cooped up with her mother for the past hour or so.

Riding, truth be told, was her ultimate passion. From the moment she could walk, she had been riding a horse, a feat she had accomplished through begging and pleading with her father, much to the annoyance of her mother. The result was that she knew practically all there was to know about horses, breeding and riding. And while her mother thought this inappropriate for a young lady of her social stature, her father had been thrilled beyond all reason.

Unfortunately, she had, surprisingly, not found a man who enjoyed horseflesh as much as she. In fact, after they found out that she knew more about horses than they, a few of her would-be suitors had fled her company in the pursuit of other, less intimidating female companions. It was, in a way, disheartening.

If she had it her way, she would find a man to be her equal, one who would fit all her requirements, not those of her parents. And especially not a man who was only fitting on the financial and social front, of which her mother and father were most concerned with. Oh she knew she would be hard-pressed to find a man she truly wished to marry, but that did not mean she was giving up so easily. She was determined to find him.

When she had been years younger, still a young miss growing up and too young to attract the attention of the young gentleman of the ton, she and her friend Lauren had dreamt up and discussed their ideal men. Most requirements still held true to this day.

He had to be tall, strong and elegant, possessing of a fine manner, with just a touch of danger and intrigue. With eyes of ocean blue and a smile that could dazzle any woman, he enjoyed horses, the outdoors and adventure. He would be willing to let her have her freedoms yet always there to protect or rescue her if the need arose; he would also possess just the slightest touch of jealousy if any other man ever looked at her. And above all, he had to love her, wholly, completely and irreversibly like the stuff of fairytales.

Of course, she had been twelve at the time when she had come up with this fanciful description, however, the hopeless romantic side of her that still existed yearned for this white knight of yonder day. Reality, however, was cruel. A man like that, to her knowledge, did not exist, so instead, she was stuck settling with somebody half as worthy.

In the case of Samuel Dawes, however, the man was not worthy at all. Nine years her senior at thirty-one years old, the man was vain, obnoxious and the last person on earth she could ever force herself, or be forced for that matter, to marry. True, the man was rich and any woman who married him would want for nothing…nothing except a love that wasn’t there. The man was too in love with himself to ever be able to spare love for another.

This was why, above everything else, she couldn’t marry him…

Nicole was so caught up in her thoughts that at first, she didn’t hear the shouting that echoed across the open plains. She had ventured farther from home than she had ever gone before, the road before her, which led to London, a testament to that fact. And here she was without a groom as well.

She swiftly swallowed back the panic that had quickly risen in her throat and tried to calm down the rapid beating of her heart. It had been almost three decades since the wars in England had occurred, and the old queen and her infant son had been killed, however, that didn’t mean that she was completely safe. Renegade bands of thieves and marauders still roamed the lands and haunted the roads that led to London intent on picking clean the wealthy and keeping unrest just on the horizon.

With no place to hide, she quickly reared in her mount and listened, waiting for another sound that would alert her to the presence of others and from which direction they traveled. She didn’t have to wait long.

Another shout, much like the first, shattered the idyllic quiet of the spring afternoon and altered Nicole to the fact that the commotion was coming from somewhere behind her, to the southeast. It was quickly apparent with the heavy crunch of wheels and loud pounding of more than one horse, that a carriage was being pursued. And it was being pursued at a rapid pace, which was very dangerous on this rocky terrain, especially with the rain they had had a few days previous.

The noise continued to get louder and in no time at all, Nicole saw an elegant black carriage appear some paces back, being quickly pursued by a half a dozen men on horseback. She swallowed, her throat dry as she watched the carriage roll precariously over the rough ground. Her heart went out to the occupants and it didn’t take more than a split second for her to decide that she needed to do something in order to avert disaster.

She quickly dug through her saddlebag and grabbed hold of the pistol her brother insisted she keep there, thankful that he had the oversight to do so. After checking the clip and realizing that she only had three bullets, she quickly spurred her horse into motion, muttering an unintelligible curse under her breath. How she was supposed to stop six men she certainly didn’t know, but she was going to try.

The carriage and its attackers had passed her some moments before, so she now had the element of surprise on her side. And the fact that they were heading for the Aldred Woods also helped her, as her horse was used to a forestry terrain. The cover of the trees, too, would supply her with a better opportunity to unseat a man from his horse.

Nicole reined in her horse, who was eagerly anticipating a gallop, so that she stayed behind the horsemen. She quickly realized that five of the six men were beginning to slow, their mounts tiring, which would be yet another advantage as Ginny had yet to be given her head. The sixth man, it was becoming apparent, was part of the carriage’s entourage, as was confirmed when the carriage’s driver threw the man a gun and he turned his horse back to face his attackers.

Gritting her teeth, and knowing she could wait no longer, she aimed her gun and shot at the feet of one of the men’s horses. The roar of the gun filled her ears, deafening her for a split second, but she was pleased to see the horse rear up and dump its rider to the ground, where he lay unmoving. Her element of surprise was now gone, but they were quickly coming upon the forest, which would afford her the cover she needed.

The carriage was the first to reach the safety of the forest, the clattering of its wheels instantly silenced on the new, softer ground. As soon as she reached cover of the forest, Nicole quickly turned in her saddle to discover the whereabouts of the attackers, only to realize that their number had been diminished now from five to three as one man lay on the ground, nursing what appeared to be a broken leg. This was obviously thanks to the man on horseback who was protecting the carriage; the same man who was battling with a beefy guy on a horse at that precise moment.

This left two others unaccounted for.

A blur of black against the bright green of the trees quickly caught her attention as one of the attackers turned his horse in the direction the carriage had taken just moments earlier. With a growl of anger, Nicole spurred her horse after him, intent on overtaking him before he reached the traveling contraption. She was so intent on her target, that she almost didn’t notice that she, herself, was being followed by the third attacker still left on his feet.

She debated what to do as the man behind her gained ground, his mount somehow finding the strength to gallop once again. There was no way she could deal with both men at once, yet she had to. If she chose to fight the man gaining on her, she would leave the carriage’s occupants vulnerable to the man pursuing it. But if she went after the carriage, she was leaving herself vulnerable if the man behind her overtook her.

Ginny persistently galloped along, her hoof beats muffled by the moss-covered forest floor, as Nicole continued to contemplate on her plan of action. If she didn’t do something soon, then she would succeed in stopping nothing, a result she did not desire in the least. She stared ahead, trying to come to a decision.

Up ahead, she saw a large branch dangling precariously, barely attached to the tree it belonged to. Inspiration struck her, and with a wicked grin, she took aim. She hit the branch right where she wanted to and urged Ginny forward, missing the falling object by the smallest of inches.

Her attacker was not so lucky. She heard a solid thunk of bone on wood, accompanied by a cry of pain that could only be human in nature. A few moments later, the dull thudding of the hooves of the horse that had been following her were no more and she knew that her plan had worked.

Now she needed to catch the carriage and apprehend the last man.

With a whispered command, she urged Ginny into a full-fledged gallop, quite aware of her surroundings, and thankful for the mare’s sure-footed stride in the uncertain terrain the forest presented. Wind whipped through her hair, but the cover of the forest prevented the bright rays of the sun from penetrating and blinding her. Thus, she had no problem finding her quarry.

The last man was quickly gaining on the carriage as the horses pulling it began to show signs of tiring. She could see the carriage driver urging the horses on, the reins clutched in his hands like a lifeline as he tried to outrun the attacker who was intent on pulling them over. She urged Ginny faster.

A quick movement to her left caught her eye and when she risked a glance, she was shocked to see the man who had been protecting the carriage almost neck in neck with her, his horse glistening with sweat. She didn’t have time to stare, not while racing at breakneck speed. But it was obvious his intent was also to apprehend the last man who had tried to attack him and whomever he held dear that rode in that carriage.

But it was quite evident that his horse had practically nothing left to give. The man began to fall slightly behind her, though he was still close enough so that she heard oaths muttered in a voice that was distinctly foreign. Her eyebrows rose, questions immediately flitting into her mind.

But there was no time for that now.

The forest was becoming denser and denser, the path they were on becoming fainter and far less traveled. Nicole knew that up ahead, it would disappear completely into a dense copse of pine trees, thus not leaving much room for a person on horseback to pass through, much less a carriage. She swore.

Either the carriage had to be stopped, or its occupants removed or else there would be a rather large disaster that she did not want to witness. Apparently, the man beside her sensed the same thing for his muttered curses became louder and he urged his horse into a faster run. He turned to say something to her, only to be interrupted by the shot of a gun.

To her utter horror, Nicole watched as the carriage’s driver fell off the carriage, his fall cushioned by the soft forest ground. But that meant that the carriage had no driver. And it was still cruising recklessly down the ever-narrowing path, closer and closer towards disaster.

Muttering to herself, she pulled out her gun, and with a determined aim, shot the last man in the back, flinching as he shrieked and fell from his horse. She had no idea what possessed her to commit such an act. But now they were free to stop the runaway carriage without having to deal with any opposition.

“We will never reach it in time,� the man beside her suddenly yelled, his voice carried on the wind.

“Yes we will,� Nicole stubbornly replied, determined to take control of the situation as it stood, “Remove the occupants of the carriage and leave handling its horses to me.�

“You can’t honestly be serious…� the man began, but Nicole merely kicked Ginny into a faster gallop, thus drowning out his words and bringing her up next to the carriage.

Her eyes were trained on the two horses that were running at full speed towards the end of the path, their burden jostling along behind them. She had to find a way to loosen them from the harnesses before disaster struck, but without injuring herself. She gritted her teeth, determination shining in her eyes, thankful for all that she had learned from her father and brother.

On Ginny’s back, she was quickly neck and neck with the carriage’s horses. Without a thought, she loosened herself from her saddle and prepared to jump the distance from her horse’s back to one of the carriage horses. She had managed a feat like this before, when she had been younger and her brother had dared her to try such a trick.

Now, however, the stakes were much higher.

After taking a deep breath, she leapt from the safety of Ginny’s back onto that of one of the carriage horses. She breathed a quick sigh of relief and sent a silent prayer skywards. Her attention, however, was immediately diverted as the animal beneath her galloped over the terrain.

Gritting her teeth, she reached across the distance separating the two carriage horses and began to work at the harness in an attempt to free the beast. She managed a quick glance back and noticed the man on horseback already had a second man behind him, and the two of them were working to remove a young woman from the carriage. Their plan seemed to be working, and moments later, she had the first horse was free.

She just needed to free the horse she was currently riding.

Glancing up, she saw the end of the path looming in the distance, growing ever closer. She refused to panic, though her heart rate began to accelerate at a rapid pace, adrenaline coursing through her body. Determinedly, she began to work on the bindings that held the second horse still attached to the carriage, trying to block out the sound of the man on horseback yelling for her. She would not allow this horse to become injured in the inevitable crash of the carriage, not if she could help it, however, she was quickly running out of time.

Frantically, her hands worked on the bindings, which seemed to be caught in the wood of the carriage, quite aware that the end of the path was a mere few paces away. Cursing, she pulled out the dagger she kept tucked in her right boot, as ordered by her father and brother whenever she went riding, and began to saw at the trappings. She had no other option left…

At last, the bindings were cut and the horse was free. Nicole glanced up, and realizing that she and her mount were about to run right into a dense standing of trees, grabbed the horse’s mane, as it was not tethered by a rein, and turned it sharply to the right, thus avoiding the collision. She grimaced at the crash she heard from the carriage meeting the dense copse of trees, however, since she and her mount were still traveling at a breakneck speed, she had no time to imagine the extent of the damage the carriage had sustained.

They were nearing the end of the forest, and she realized that if she didn’t stop the horse soon, they would be heading straight into the rocky bed of an old, dried-up stream. It was dangerous ground even for the most sure-footed and well-rested of horses, which her mount, obviously, was not. Swearing, she used all her strength to try and rein the beast in.

Instinctively, the horse abruptly stopped and began to rear up on its hind legs, a nervous whinny escaping at being thus so severely stopped. Nicole had almost no time to try to grab onto the horse’s mane in order to keep her seat. Unfortunately, she was not quick enough and she soon found herself falling, the ground looming ever closer.

With a cry, she rolled into a ball mere seconds before her body crashed to the ground amidst sharp, jagged rocks. Pain immediately began to infuse her body as the wind was forcefully knocked out of her and her head jarred against the hard ground. Had her eyes not been close she probably would have been seeing stars at that point.

She lay there, unmoving, just trying to breathe, a massive feat after what she had just endured. She almost didn’t feel the pain in her right shoulder. But after trying to move, she was quickly made aware of her injury as the pain coursed down her arm. She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from crying out.

Moments seemed to pass like hours as she lay, motionless, still curled into a tight ball, biting her lip as she willed the pain to go away. She almost didn’t hear the approach of booted feet a few moments later as she was so concentrated on the pain radiating through her body. But when she did, she barely reacted at all even though she had every reason to be scared out of her mind and on the defensive against the newcomer.

“Where does it hurt?� a soft, wholly male voice suddenly began to question as a gentle hand was laid against the back of her head. She merely whimpered in response, shutting her eyes to block out the blinding light of the day. “You have to tell me or else I cannot help you.�

“Everywhere,� she finally gasped out.

The gentle hands immediately began to massage her temple, where it seemed like the sound of a thousand drums pounded, before traveling down to her neck in an attempt to ease away the tension. Surprisingly enough, she found her muscles begin to relax, and the pain start to ebb away, replaced by a slight sense of grogginess. She lay silent, her eyes still squeezed shut, as he checked for broken bones or strained muscles, and once satisfied, returned to massaging her temple.

Pain, however, still radiated from her right shoulder, something he had not checked due to the fact that she lay on her back. A slight whimper escaped her lips as the injury came in contact with a jagged rock, which was most likely the culprit of said injury. She tried to squirm into a more comfortable position, but found that she had not the strength to do so.

“What is it? Where does it hurt?� the voice suddenly questioned again at the sound of her whimper.

“Shoulder,� she whispered, “I’m sorry.�

With that, she blacked out, the pain suddenly becoming too much for her senses to handle. She was therefore unaware of being lifted into a sitting position so that her rescuer could assess her injury. It was most likely a blessing that she was not awake, for the injury caused from the fall was most likely more alarming than she realized for part of her tunic was soaked in blood.

“Stupid females,� the man muttered to himself as soon as he had assessed her injury.

He quickly stripped out of his overcoat and, after removing all the rocks from the ground, laid the coat down before depositing his burden back into her prone position. Though he hated to wait around for her to come to her senses, he feared that moving her without knowing the full extent of her injury could cause even greater harm. For that he would wait to have permission to look at her wound without the fabric of her tunic blocking the damage from sight. Then he would think about moving her.

Thankfully, he didn’t have long to wait. She came to with a groan, her lips turning down in a frown as she was hit with more waves of pain.

Nicole thought she was dying. The pain in her shoulder was causing her stomach to roil in waves, nausea coming quickly to the forefront. She wished for the blessed darkness of unconsciousness again, but unfortunately, this time it would not come.

“Ma’am you need to look at me, so I can check to make sure you are alright,� the gentle voice from before suddenly came again, piercing through the painful haze that had settled over her consciousness.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes to look into the face of her care-giver. And felt her heart begin to race as she stared up into the bluest eyes she had ever seen…

Nicole blinked, still hypnotized by the concerned blue eyes that were trained on her face. With a mental shake, she quickly tried to gather her wits about her as she took stock of the man in front of her in order to determine if he was friend or foe. However, she was immediately distracted as she realized that the word handsome did not do him justice. All thoughts to whether or not she was safe quickly flew from her mind.

Those intense blue eyes scrutinizing her were set in a strong, chiseled face with high cheekbones, an aristocratic nose and full, kissable lips that were currently set in a grim line. A high forehead was capped by a head of thick, reddish-brown curls that were cut short in the latest style of the younger generation. Yet crease lines were visible at the corners of his eyes and mouth, which bespoke many years of smiling and laughter, a trait which she was hard-pressed to find among the stiff, uppity Englishmen she was accustomed to.

She continued her perusal and tried to ascertain precisely how tall the man was. It was for certain that he was not of a short stature. Despite the fact that he was leaning over her and that she lay on the ground, Nicole could tell that he was about half a foot taller than her. And that was no mean feat since she was rather tall herself at 5’6.

His shoulders were broad and his arms muscled, all which she could easily see as he moved, the fabric of his shirt stretching taught. His fingers appeared to be callused, his skin a deep brown from many hours beneath a burning sun, both belying years of laborious work. However, from the few words he had spoken to her and the way he carried himself, she perceived him to be a gentleman.

Nicole almost smiled. The man intrigued her, there was no doubt about that, and she longed to ply him with questions. Years of lectures from her mother, however, bid her to hold her tongue. More likely than not she would have her chance to learn more of the man with the striking blue eyes.

Justin almost grinned as he watched the young woman in front of him sizing him up. He now knew what it felt like to be a horse or cow that was bought and sold at market; however, the gaze of her hazel eyes did not bother him, for it merely probed with curiosity. Which was of some surprise to him. He was used to females fainting or going into hysterics when presented with situations much less dangerous than the one this young miss now found herself in. But there was no sense of fear lurking in her eyes or in her body language, only that same intriguing curiosity.

He shook his head as if removing invisible cobwebs that had settled upon him. He wasn’t here to try to figure out the inner workings of some young hoyden who rode around in breeches and jumped from horse to horse! Why, if he had any responsibility for the young woman at all, he’d take her over his knee and give her an old-fashioned spanking for risking her life in such a manner. Anybody in their right mind would…

Justin felt his temper began to rise, and tried vainly to quiet it, but when he looked down at the young woman in front of him, he could only feel his displeasure growing. It was most likely that his conscious was pricked by the fact that there appeared to be nobody around to protect this young woman from harm. But whatever it was, the minute she opened her mouth to speak and break the silence that had settled upon them, he immediately beat her to the punch.

“What in the bloody hell did you think you were doing?” Justin yelled, his blue eyes flashing, “Have you no idea how much danger you put yourself in?”

Nicole felt her eyes widen at his words, her jaw dropping in shock at his obvious anger. Hadn’t she just helped avert disaster? Wasn’t she injured and in pain, all in an effort to save him and his companions? Where was the thanks that she deserved?

Instead, she got treated like a child! Scolded as if she had done something terrible, when in fact, she most certainly hadn’t, not by any means. Nicole immediately felt her temper begin to flare, annoyed that her help was being thrown right back in her face. As if putting her life in danger for somebody she didn’t even know was an unmentionable event that occurred on more than one occasion.

She snorted, frowning in annoyance at the nerve of the man in front of her. Handsome or not, she’d show him. She was not some weak female whose only concern was the latest London fashions and she most certainly was not afraid of a little danger when it presented itself. Why, she was probably more apt to handling dangerous situations than this man, this man who deemed it his right to scold her like a child.

Was he so arrogant to assume that just because she was a female, she was likely to fall apart at the least amount of stress life threw at her?

“Have you no sense at all?” the man raged, oblivious to her mood change, “You do not go jumping from one horse to another while traveling at such a breakneck speed. That is how you get yourself killed!”

“I was in complete control,” Nicole acidly stated as she inched herself into a sitting position and fixed the man with an icy glare. She tried to ignore the rush of pain that immediately infused her wounded shoulder.

“Somehow I doubt that,” the man spat, rolling his eyes as he surged to his feet.

He now seemed to be oblivious to the fact that she was in pain, as if the caring, kind front he had shown her a few moments previous was all just an act. Oh, did that infuriate her even more!

“I have been around horses my entire life. I learned to ride almost right after I learned how to walk, so do not tell me that I was not in control,” Nicole practically yelled, her eyes emitting hazel fire as she attempted to scramble to her feet, despite the fact that her body was wracked with pain.

“Do not move,” the man harshly stated, much to her surprise, coming back to her side in an instant, “You had quite of fall in case you don’t remember in that scrambled brain of yours.”

“I am not a china doll that breaks at the slightest movement,” Nicole sarcastically retorted, trying to get her temper under control, “And I certainly have my wits about me, kind sir, so do not suggest otherwise.”

“You still need to rest for a minute and let me have a look at your injury. You’re bleeding and I need to see if the cut is just superficial or if it may need some stitching,” the man insisted as he placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her back into a sitting position. She rewarded him with a scathing glare for his efforts. He rolled his eyes, muttering a curse under his breath.

“Take your hands off me,” she ground out, fixing him with a challenging gaze. He raised a questioning eyebrow in response.

“Not until you promise me you will sit still for a few minutes and let me look at your injury,” the man retorted, his lips set in a grim, determined line.

Nicole pursed her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest in anger, annoyed that this man could get under her skin so easily. And she didn’t even know his name! She looked up into his face, intent on giving him a reply in the negative, if only to make him mad, the stubbornness in her refusing to back down.

But she didn’t quite realize how close they actually were, and the minute she looked up at him, she lost all ability to think, let alone speak. She watched as his gaze quickly dipped to her lips before returning to her eyes. Nicole felt her heartbeat quicken, some of her anger ebbing, replaced by a feeling she couldn’t name.

Justin couldn’t stop staring at the young woman in front of him. Yes, she made his temper boil like none other, but he couldn’t deny the fact that she was quite pretty and that it had been a long time since he had found a woman who had caught his attention. Of course, that did not mean he could do more than just look. As far as he knew, looking at a pretty young woman was not a crime in England, but to do more would mean either the shackles of marriage or a possible offspring, neither of which he wanted.

He sighed as his gaze dipped to her lips. They were ripe and red, as if begging to be kissed and suddenly he found it hard to swallow. The look she was giving him, however, bespoke of her innocence and it quickly forced him to consider the consequences of stealing a kiss…

“Justin?” another male voice suddenly questioned, interrupting the charged silence that had descended over them a few moments before.

“Yes, what is it Dexter?” the Justin responded as he quickly stood up and strode in his friend’s direction. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and the young woman as was possible at the moment.

Nicole immediately felt a sense of loss when the blue-eyed stranger got up and left her sitting where she had fallen. But she quickly pushed that feeling aside as she listened to the conversation between the two men, who were, most obviously, friends.

“Wallace has been shot. We’d best find someplace with a doctor and soon or else he might not make it,” the newcomer known as Dexter, commented. Nicole listened intently, trying to remain inconspicuous now that the man known as Justin was no longer paying attention to her.

“Where is he?” Justin demanded, frowning.

“He lies where he fell, being cared for by Sofie,” Dexter explained, shifting from foot to foot under his friend’s enquiring stare. Justin swore.

“You left her alone? Unprotected?” Justin cried, his eyes flashing with anger, “Have you lost your senses Dex?!? After what we have just been through, you have left her alone and…”

“Do you honestly think this was my doing? If that sister of your’s wasn’t so bloody stubborn about every damn thing, I wouldn’t be standing here in front of you right now,” Dexter retorted with a roll of his eyes.

“Sofie told you to come find me?” Justin asked, amusement suddenly coloring his tone and dissolving his anger.

“Yes, and she informed me if I didn’t go, she would shoot me with whatever gun she could get her hands on,” Dexter dryly explained.

Justin immediately began to laugh. Trust his sister to go and order everybody about when the situation clearly called for a man to take charge. Of course, his sister was not one who took lightly to somebody taking control of her, something he had become well aware of growing up with her.

“I don’t see what is funny about this situation,” Dexter growled as he crossed his arms over his chest, “If I had it my way, why I’d…”

“Marry her?” Justin suddenly questioned, then immediately bit his tongue. This was no time to be bringing up the subject of Dexter’s newfound fascination with Sofie.

Dexter’s face paled and he looked like he had just swallowed something that did not agree with him. Was he that transparent? Over the course of their journey the past few days, he had come to realize that maybe the sisterly affection he held for Sofie was not sisterly affection at all, but rather some sort of fascination and attraction that went way beyond the boundaries of sisterly.

He was still trying to come to grips with this realization himself, but for Justin, Sofie’s elder brother and his best friend, to notice his changed attitude toward the young woman was quite another matter entirely. Growing up, Sofie had always been his partner in crime as they had ganged up on Justin and some of the other children from neighboring plantations. She was like the sister he never had, coming from a family of four boys himself, and it had been that way ever since he could remember.

But recently, something about the way her eyes sparkled and the laugh that was distinctly her’s put him on edge and had his skin tingling with awareness. He couldn’t go anywhere she was without being fully aware of exactly where she stood, the expression upon her face and who she was conversing with. It was bordering on absurd, this sudden fascination with a woman he had, until recently, considered a sister.

He shook his head, disgusted with himself as he searched for an answer to Justin’s off-hand suggestion. He certainly wasn’t being serious, was he?

Nicole tried to pretend as if she wasn’t listening in on their conversation, which was rather hard to accomplish as they were only standing a few feet away from her and were not talking in the quietest of tones. But it didn’t seem to matter how she acted anyway, for they were quite oblivious to her presence.

The two men’s accents ascertained the fact that they were indeed foreigners and from her limited experience, Nicole guessed they were Americans. The idea made her curiosity increase a notch as she wondered why on earth two Americans would be traveling this route to London, which was most certainly their destination. And on top of that, who had attacked the group of travelers? True, highwaymen still lingered on the more deserted roads, however, this road that ran by her parents’ property and led to London was anything but that as it saw travelers almost on a daily basis. And moreover, highwaymen typically struck at night, when they could take the travelers by surprise.

Unfortunately, she had no answer to her musings. But boy would she love to get some straight answers out of the two men who stood not far away from her, arguing in heated tones, their voices now too quiet for her to hear. And her preference would be that those answers not come from that blue-eyed devil who made her heart race for no apparent reason.

True, she owed him gratitude for helping her, but it was not as if she couldn’t handle herself. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. But the fact that she had actually fainted, something she rarely ever did, made her think twice about exactly how much danger she was capable of handling by herself.

“Just drop it Justin,” Dexter finally ground out.

He was fed up with the direction the conversation was taking as his friend tried to get him to admit his feelings for Sofie. But he himself still had no idea where his feelings lay and what exactly they meant, so he couldn’t give Justin a straight answer. And that bugged him.

He sighed. His eyes took in unfamiliar surroundings, knowing that they were now in quite a fix. Until his eyes landed on what had most likely been keeping Justin from returning to where Wallace lay injured.

A woman. And not just any. Dexter was not blind to the fact that the woman sitting a few feet away in the unusual attire of breeches and a tunic was beautiful. A delicately boned face was home to a pair of large hazel eyes that had just a touch of a tilt, making them appear somewhat exotic. A small button nose stood proudly above a pair of full red lips that most likely could drive a man crazy. A high, regal forehead was capped by a head of dark chestnut hair, which was windblown and hung down her back in loose, alluring curls.

She didn’t appear to be all that tall, but from what Dexter could tell, she was taller than most females of his acquaintance. And the breeches and tunic left little to the imagination that she was a well-developed woman and not a miss still in the school room. Her waist was narrow, her hips wide and the calves that were incased in riding boots looked to be curved with muscle.

Dexter knew that the woman was beautiful and that he should have been wanting to make her acquaintance then and there. But Sofie was all that was on his mind at that moment. And that bothered him.

Abruptly he turned away and focused his attention back on what Justin was rambling on about. His friend paid the young woman no attention, in fact, was pointedly ignoring her, which he found odd. It wasn’t like Justin to act like a cad around any woman whether she be slave, peasant, or lady, but he certainly wasn’t acting the gentleman around this particular female.

It was all rather odd. But far be it for him to question Justin’s motives. His friend had sound reasoning in his head, so if he wanted to act like an ass and ignore the young woman sitting a few feet away, far be it for him to interfere and question his friend’s motives.

As she sat there, Nicole tried to pretend like she hadn’t noticed the man known as Dexter scrutinizing her, his eyes taking in her dusty, unladylike attire. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks, for some reason horrified that he was seeing her like this, when very few people knew of her penchant for wearing breeches and a tunic when she rode by herself. However, despite the embarrassment, Dexter’s gaze didn’t jolt her as Justin’s did.

Something about that blue gaze unnerved her and sent shivers down her spine. Both men were handsome but when Justin looked at her, something inside her moved. She didn’t understand it, and didn’t really want to understand it. She just wanted to be back at the manor house where she wouldn’t feel so confused and so at a disadvantage.

She tried to move again, but pain, unwelcome, shot up her arm and with an almost inaudible groan, she sank back into a sitting position. Damn her for getting into such an impossible situation. She’d need help to get back home and that was something that stung at her pride.

At the moment, though, the two men seemed oblivious to her presence.

“Now, do you have any idea where we are?” Dexter finally questioned as he finished assuring Justin that Sofie was perfectly safe and that he had left a gun with her, at the ready in case she needed it.

“I would say at least an hour south of London,” Justin responded with a sigh as he ran an agitated hand through his curls, “Nowhere near to a town big enough to employ a doctor, not to mention the fact that the carriage is now unfit for traveling anywhere as it is.”

“What about that manor house and surrounding village we passed a few miles back?” Dexter questioned, a frown beginning to mar his features as the situation become direr and direr for Wallace.

“Halifax Manor employs a doctor whenever the family is in residence, such as now,” Nicole suddenly spoke up, thus grabbing the attention of both men.

“Are you sure?” the man named Dexter demanded as he came closer and finally allowed her a clear view of his person.

He was just about as handsome as the man named Justin, except in a less-intimidating way. A few inches shorter than his companion, Dexter had jet-black hair, which was completely straight and, again, cut in the latest shorter style. High cheekbones were the highlight of his defined face, his thin lips and smaller, broad nose mere accents. His eyes were an intense bright green, however, when she looked at him, Nicole could detect a sense of friendliness etched in their depths rather than the haughty disdain shining in the blue orbs of his companion.

The well-defined muscles in his arms and legs screamed of hard, laborious work and the dark skin many a days spent in the afternoon sun. She was not sure which man was stronger, Justin or Dexter, only that they both would most likely be able to hold their own in a fight. But the thing she liked about Dexter was the fact that he seemed friendlier and far more tolerable than his friend Justin.

Especially since he did not make her heart race like the blue-eyed demon who was currently staring at her, curiosity written clearly on his face.

“Absolutely,” she confirmed, as she angrily pushed that last thought to the back of her mind, “The family has yet to depart to London for the Season.”

“Well, would the family be willing to lend out the services of their doctor?” the man named Dexter continued, his eyes filled with hope, “We are greatly in need of help at this moment. The life of our driver hangs on the line.”

“Certainly,” Nicole responded as she tried to rise to her feet, ignoring the glare the man named Justin sent in her direction for disobeying her orders.

She was very grateful to Dexter when he walked over and lent his assistance. He quickly put an arm around her waist and helped her to her shaky feet, quickly taking in the blood that had stained the upper right shoulder portion of her tunic. Unbeknownst to her, he sent a questioning glare in Justin’s direction, who merely shook his head and rolled his eyes in response.

That response was enough to tell Dexter that Justin and this woman had had an argument or some sort of disagreement at the least. Justin was usually not one to get upset, but when push came to shove, he had a rash temper that he could wield with deadly accuracy. It was usually kept under tight wraps, which also told Dexter that this woman had a temper of her own and could hold her own against his friend. A grin reached his lips and he had to fight to keep from laughing.

“Thank you,” Nicole gratefully stated as she adjusted her tunic, aware that pain still radiated from her shoulder and that she’d do well to have her parents’ physician take a look at it as soon as they reached the manor house.

“You’re welcome Miss…” Dexter trailed off, waiting for a name to put to the woman’s face. He ignored the glare that Justin sent in his direction.

“Lady Nicole Ashby,” Nicole responded, inwardly smiling as she saw Justin’s mouth fall open in shock at the revelation, “My parents are the Duke and Duchess of Halifax and their manor house is the one you speak of.”

“My lady,” the man known as Dexter stated as he took hold of her hand and respectfully bowed over it, “Dexter O’Keefe at your service, and this is…”

“Justin Bennington,” the blue-eyed man gruffly responded as he took her hand and bowed over it, sending a stiff smile in her direction.

Inside, however, he was fuming.

How dare she not tell him who she was. A lady of her station in English society should not be riding around in men’s clothing, jumping horses, wielding guns and putting herself in an immense amount of danger, at least in his opinion. Back home, his father would never have allowed anything of such nature to pass, not where Sofie was concerned.

Then again, there were things Sofie had done that their father didn’t even know about. And most of it had occurred when he and Dexter had been present and quite capable of stopping her antics, yet they hadn’t. He sighed. These two women were too much alike.

Were all females like this? So stubborn, short-tempered, wild and reckless? Was it their ultimate goal in life to scare the wits out of the men that truly cared about them by endangering themselves in any way possible? And why did they have to be so damn blasted gorgeous, fiery, challenging and altogether…

Justin quickly squelched that last thought as he realized that his musings had migrated from the topic of women in general to the spirited English miss who stood not a few feet from him. She was a puzzle, that she certainly was and a very intriguing one at that. However, he had enough to deal with already without adding a woman to the mix. Especially now since they were practically stranded in the middle of the woods with no means of transporting themselves to London, their final destination.

They really had no choice but to accept her help, as much as Justin didn’t want it. But he couldn’t very well allow Wallace, whom he had come to care for, die just because he was stubborn and one certain willful lass got under his skin so easily. He sighed in resignation.

“You are not from England,” Nicole commented, a statement rather than a question.

“No, we are Americans traveling here on business relating to the shipping line that the two of us own,” Justin reluctantly replied, waving a loose hand at himself and Dexter. Dexter looked somewhat puzzled at his friend’s reply, wondering why he had decided to lie about their actual reason for being in England.

“And you did not dock in London?” Nicole asked, surprised.

“No, we felt it would be safer to dock in a more southern port and then travel by land into London, since Justin is also here on personal reasons regarding a few estranged family members who are rumored to live in London,” Dexter supplied, ignoring the glare his friend was sending in his direction, seeing no reason why the information could not be shared.

“I do not know if I have ever met or know of any Bennington’s who reside in the London area, at least among the social circles I frequent,” Nicole commented as she cocked her head to the side in thought, “Though I cannot say for certain that there is not a family by that name in the lower London circles.”

“Well perhaps we will discover some information once we get to London, but for now, we must get Wallace to the doctor,” Dexter concluded as he turned back from the direction he had come, “Do you need assistance?”

Nicole opened her mouth to retort, but Justin, once again, beat her to the punch. He, unlike her, had noticed her mare ambling up towards them and thought to place her upon the horse and ride behind her. Dexter, he figured, could ride the stallion that had been pulling the carriage and was now happily munching on grass.

“I’ll help you onto your horse and we can ride back to where my sister is,” Justin announced, giving her no room for argument as he strode over, picked her up like she weighed nothing and deposited her in her saddle.

“Why you…” Nicole began, but got no farther as Justin hoisted himself into the saddle behind her and put his arms around her waist as he easily plucked the reins from her hands.

She was rendered mute as her back came into contact with the hard contours and sinewy muscle of the American’s chest. His arms around her waist made her feel like she was caged. Never before had she been held thusly by a man who was not a relation to her, and she had no idea how to respond.

Dexter watched an array of emotions cross the young woman’s hazel eyes, and almost laughed in response. If the young woman and Justin were going to battle with each other, well Justin had just won that round. But that didn’t mean that the lovely Lady Ashby would not give Justin hell for taking such charge in a situation which she had obviously thought was completely under her command and control.

Without saying a word, Dexter climbed atop the carriage stallion and immediately began to lead the way to where he had left Sofie. This journey, he mused to himself with a smile, just kept getting more and more interesting and he was happy that he had obliged his friend and come along for it. Lord knew what other mischief Justin could get himself into on this needle-in-a-haystack search he was on.

Suddenly, a high-pitched shriek split through the calm afternoon air.

“Sofie,” Dexter breathed, his eyes widening as his heart began to beat at a rapid pace.

“I told you not to leave her alone you idiot!” Justin hissed from his place atop the mare, “My sister may be headstrong and stubborn, but that does not mean she can handle the likes of a man intent on doing her bodily harm!”

“Don’t tell me something I don’t already know!” Dexter hotly returned, anger coloring his cheeks before he set his mount into a gallop.

Justin immediately began to follow after his friend. His passenger, who had been mute for some time, immediately began to shout out directions through the forest that she obviously knew so well. He was thankful to her for she helped the three of them avoid a few pitfalls which would have most certainly done them and their horses harm.

Justin didn’t know how fast they galloped through the woods, nor did he pay attention to the tree branches that tugged at the arms he held protectively around Nicole Ashby. All he could think of was his sister, and making it to her side before any harm came to her. She was his sister for christ’s sake and if anything happened to her, then by god…

All of a sudden, Dexter stopped and Justin had to quickly pull on the mare’s reins to get her to stop. However, all thought of the mare, his passenger and Dexter left as he took in the sight in the clearing.

His sister sat on the ground, cradling Wallace’s head, who had been shot from their earlier run-in with highwaymen. Surrounding them was a group of men on horseback, all dressed in stable clothing, their weapons drawn, at the ready, and pointed at his sister and Wallace. Leading them was a young man dressed in fine clothing, a male version of Nicole Ashby, which would mean that this could be none other than her brother.

“I will ask you once more miss, where is my sister?” Marcus Ashby demanded, growing impatient and more worried as the minutes passed and there was still no sign of his wayward, headstrong sister.

“I already told you that I have never met your sister in my life!” the young woman spat, glaring daggers at the young man on horseback and wondering where her brother and Dexter could have gotten to, “And even if I had, where on earth would I be hiding her while I am taking care of my driver, who has been injured?”

“Leave her be,” Dexter suddenly cried as he brought his horse into sight of the group of men and their leader. Sofie looked like she wanted to kiss him right then and there for finally returning.

“Who are you?” Marcus demanded in a cold voice, glaring frigidly at the newcomer and wondering if there were going to be more men emerging through the forest. The same forest his sister’s personal guard Nahkeet said she had disappeared into about a half an hour back. “And what have you done with my sister?”

“I am right here Marcus, so let them be. They only seek our help,” Nicole finally spoke up as Justin urged Ginny forward into the dim light the forest allowed. Her brother’s frown, however, did not leave his face as he realized that she was not the only passenger on the horse.

“Bloody hell Nikki, where on earth have you been?!?” Marcus bellowed the minute he caught sight of her, “Nahkeet said you took off after a carriage nigh on half an hour ago and that once he heard shots fired, he came straight back to the manor for help. What happened? Are you hurt? And who is that man with you?”

“I am fine Marcus,” Nicole absently stated as she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to ignore the presence behind her.

“Thank the lord,” Marcus breathed, knowing he would not be able to forgive himself if anything happened to his youngest sister, “Now pray tell me what you were doing galloping after a carriage? You know that the terrain around here is uneven and that there are men still lurking about causing disturbances of the fragile peace we have here in England.”

“These people needed my help. They were being pursued by some highwaymen and there was no way I was going to sit back and not do anything to help. The shots you heard fired were from me, but only because I had no other choice in the matter,” Nicole explained, looking beseechingly at her brother. Marcus sighed as he finally dismounted and strode to his sister’s horse to help her do the same.

Again, Justin was one step ahead of both Nicole and her brother. He immediately removed his arms from around her waist and began to lower her to the ground where her brother stood waiting. Marcus quickly reached up and snatched Nicole away from the stranger, not trusting him in the least.

“I would highly suggest that you keep your hands to yourself and off my sister,” Marcus snapped as he glared at the man.

“Marcus, do behave yourself and act like the civilized being that I know you can sometimes be,” Nicole scolded, amusement coloring her tone at her brother’s barbaric demeanor. Justin had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “Mr. Bennington means me no harm, so it will do you some good to sheath those claws of yours.”

“My apologies,” Marcus stiffly replied as Justin began to dismount.

“No need for such formalities, for I have a sister of my own and I know how much of a pain they can be and how much we must protect them,” Justin returned as he held out his hand in greeting, “Justin Bennington at your service m’lord.”

“None of that lord stuff. I simply go by Marcus. Marcus Ashby,” the young man responded, grinning.

“A pleasure,” Justin stated, returning the grin for there was something about the man he instantly liked, “This is my friend Dexter O’Keefe, that over there is my sister Sofie, and Wallace, our driver, is the one whom has been injured and needs a doctor’s attention as soon as possible.”

“Nice to meet you,” Marcus politely responded as he shook hands with Dexter and nodded his head in greeting towards Sofie. “Now, I believe we should see about getting everybody to Halifax Manor so that your man may be attended to by our physician and so that you may all reside in comfort for the evening.”

“Is it a long ride to your home? I fear our driver is losing a lot of blood and I know that the rest of us are quite tired from the ordeal we just experienced earlier today,” Dexter commented after he had shaken the future duke’s hand.

“It shouldn’t take too long, what with all the horses we have,” Marcus responded as he motioned to a couple of the stable hands, “We will get your driver on his way to the manor house in the care of a couple of my groomsmen while we sort out the rest of the details. You traveled with luggage I assume?”

“Yes, it is all back in the carriage,” Justin explained as he warmed up to the English man, wondering why he liked the man so much already, yet felt he needed to do verbal battle with his sister.

“Well then we should retrieve your belongings and then we shall head to Halifax Manor where we can provide you with baths, hot meals and a comfortable bed to sleep in,” Marcus suggested once his men had got the injured driver on a horse and headed in the direction of Halifax Manor.

“Sounds agreeable to me,” Justin responded as he and Dexter turned in the direction of where the wreckage of the carriage lay. A couple of the stablemen began to follow, intent on helping the two foreign men with their task.

“Miss, if you will allow me?” Marcus quietly said as he held out a hand to Sofie, who still sat on the ground, somewhat in a daze from all that had transpired over the past hour or so.

“Thank you,” she softly replied once he had helped her to her feet and she had dusted off her skirt.

“I want to apologize for the way I acted towards you earlier,” the young man continued as he bowed over her hand and gave her a polite smile, “You must understand that I was only acting in the best interest of my sister, for I was worried that something truly terrible had happened to her.”

“I understand. My brother is the same way,” Sofie replied as she rewarded him with a warm smile before turning her attention to Nicole, who stood a few paces back, “Now, I do not think you and I have been formally introduced my lady.”

“Lady Nicole Ashby, but please, call me Nicole,” Nicole stated with a genuine smile as she briefly shook the American woman’s hand.

“Sofie Bennington,” Sofie responded, smiling in return as she knew, for some unknown reason, that she and this English lady were going to become very good friends.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Nicole replied as she linked arms with the young woman, “Now tell me, do you enjoy riding? For I fear it would be a rather long trip if you had to stick to walking.”

“Me? Walk? That’s laughable. I’ve been riding horses since I was a child, though I’d prefer to do it in the same attire you presently have on,” Sofie boldly stated, her eyes sparkling with merriment. Nicole laughed.

“Well I believe, Sofie Bennington, that you and I are going to get along famously,” Nicole concluded as she led the young woman towards Ginny.

“I certainly think you are right about that,” Sofie agreed as she took sight of the mare, “Now that, I can say without any doubt, is a beautiful horse. Is she yours?”

“She is indeed, and if you’d like, you may ride her back to Halifax Manor,” Nicole stated, fully confident that the young American woman knew just as much about horseflesh as she herself did.

“I’d be delighted,” Sofie replied.

The two women immediately began to talk to each other, the topic obviously being horses. Marcus walked away with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes. As if his sister needed a friend who was cut from exactly the same mold! However, there was obviously nothing he could do to stop her if she wanted to befriend this American woman.

It was only a short time later that the bedraggled party began to make its way towards Halifax manor. Nicole sat in front of her brother on his horse as they led the way, Sofie, sitting atop Ginny, riding right next to them. Justin, who was a few paces behind and out of earshot, merely rolled his eyes and stayed silent.

It was not his business who his sister befriended, but damn if it wasn’t somebody whom he wanted no part of. A feeling which he could not explain in the least even if he tried. Well, he figured he would just have to make the best of the situation, come hell or high water. For he’d be damned if he let one willful English lass come between him and the family he was searching for.

            The weak light of the fading day shone down upon the mixed group of Englishmen and Americans, their progress towards Halifax Manor slow.  Trunks had to be carried and there were just not enough horses for everybody to be able to ride.  It was truly trying Justin’s patience to the very limit.

            The handsome merchant was silent as he walked beside Dexter, many thoughts and emotions roiling through his head.  He was worried about Wallace.  He was annoyed that the search for his real family was being delayed yet again.  He was frustrated about having to intrude in the home of people he had no familiarity with.

            But most of all, he was infuriated by one Lady Nicole Ashby.

            A swish of the aforementioned lady’s hair caught his attention and he immediately scowled.  While he greatly appreciated the help she had provided them, he did not believe Nicole Ashby had any right riding on a horse without a groom; and wearing breeches to boot!  Didn’t she have any sense of decency?  Didn’t she realize that by wearing such form-fitting breeches, a man was given the perfect view of her shapely, delectable…

            Justin’s scowl blackened as he realized precisely where his thoughts had been headed towards in regard to the lovely miss.  He certainly didn’t like it, not one bloody bit.  He had known her all of an hour, had traded rather stinging verbal barbs with her and yet here he was fantasizing about a part of her anatomy he had no business thinking about.

            “Should I ask what the angry scowl is for or should I just wait for lightening to strike the lady down?” Dexter suddenly questioned in a low voice as he slightly inclined his head in Lady Nicole’s direction.  If possible, Justin’s scowl became even more pronounced.

            He sighed.  There were too many things that he had to focus on, too many things that he should be devoting his entire attention to and a pretty English lady was not one of them.  The sooner they were in London and away from Lady Nicole Ashby the better in his opinion.

            “I have no idea what you are insinuating,” Justin finally stated to his friend, his voice equally low, not wanting to be overheard.  He quickly wiped the scowl from his face.

            “Justin, we have been friends since we were boys in leading strings so do not try to play false with me,” Dexter replied, frustrated, “What is it that has made you so defensive around her?”

            “I am not defensive,” Justin protested, knowing full well that the reply sounded quite false, even to his own ears.  He rolled his eyes, starting to get annoyed with the best friend who knew him altogether too well.

            “What were the two of you discussing before I came upon you?” Dexter persisted, ignoring both the rolled eyes and the warning look Justin sent in his direction, “It must have been something rather important for you to act a cad towards the fairer sex.”

            “I am not a cad!  She is a woman and as such should not be running about in breeches, riding on horses and almost proceeding to get herself killed in the process.  She should have the decency to know better or at least to have somebody around to tell her that her behavior is far from appropriate,” Justin finally retorted in a heated whisper, his eyes flashing an icy blue.

            Dexter wanted to laugh at the explanation he was finally given.  Justin could be rather stubborn when he wanted and given that he had been in control of his life since turning eighteen was rather used to doing things his own way.  Clearly the lady appeared to be just as stubborn as his friend.  This was turning out to be a far more interesting adventure than he initially thought it would be.

            “I take it the lady did not take too kindly to you pointing this out to her?” Dexter questioned with a raised brow in his friend’s direction.  Justin frowned.

            “Of course not,” he angrily retorted, “And now we are stuck dealing with her company for lord knows how long given Wallace’s injury.”

            “You mean you are stuck dealing with her,” Dexter amended with a grin, “I for one find her to be a fine person upon speaking with her previously and your sister appears to be getting along with her extremely well. Perhaps you are too quick to judge?”

            “Time shall tell,” was all Justin could grumble as the pair fell silent.

            A few more minutes of traveling brought the large group to a gravel pathway lined by perfectly spaced trees which led to what appeared to be the family’s residence.  Cottages and a barn could be seen dotting a rolling hill farther along in the background with cattle roaming freely, being monitored by a lone rider on a horse.  The image was quite bucolic and Justin had to admit that if they would have to remain here for a few days, the setting could have been far worse.

            They continued to travel down the gravel path which eventually ended in a round-about, a giant multi-level fountain spouting water sitting in the middle of the drive.  Behind the fountain a grand set of stairs led up to a large porch, the double-door entrance of the manor capped with a large overhang supported by white columns.  The house itself, a red brick structure, was tw0 stories tall with both a left and a right wing, the roof dotted with multiple chimneys.  The lawn in front of both wings was expertly manicured, flowerbeds beneath the main floor windows of each wing blossoming a multitude of colors.

            Justin was used to the architecture of the southern plantation he grew up on and was no stranger to London’s different styles of buildings; however, he was impressed with the structure before him.  He watched as Marcus Ashby began to shout orders to the stable hands that had accompanied them; some of the men began to bring their belongings into the manor house while others saw to taking the horses towards a stable he now noticed off to the right of the home.

            “Come, I shall see you all settled into one of the guest wings so you can clean up before we sit to supper,” Marcus Ashby stated to the two men, a friendly expression remaining upon his face.

            “And before mother gets wind of what is going on,” Nicole sarcastically stated with a roll of her eyes, “Lord knows how easily she overreacts.”

            “You dear sister would do well to head up the back stairs and change your attire before our parent catches site of you and confines you to your room for the season,” Marcus dryly stated with a raised brow in her direction, “Leave mother to me.”

            With a huff, Nicole sank into a quick, albeit quite comical curtsey given her lack of skirts and bid the three men and Sofia a polite goodbye before heading round towards the back of the house.  Justin had to bite his tongue through the exchange to prevent an angry retort to her sarcasm.  Thus far, his opinion of the lady remained unchanged.

            Marcus marched up the stairs as his men continued to complete the tasks they were given; Justin and his companions had no choice but to follow.  An ancient looking butler in a crisp uniform opened the large, stately door; his eyes were a bright steely blue that appeared to miss nothing.  But he kept silent at the sight of the visitors following in his young masters wake, too proper and polite to voice his opinion.

            Justin surveyed his surroundings with observant eyes.  The main foyer of the manor house within which they stood was impressive; a vaulted curved ceiling spanned both floors, a large, decorative candelabra hanging in the center of the ceiling and throwing bright light across the room.  At the end of the foyer was a majestic staircase that went up half a flight before splitting off to travel both left and right up to the second floor.  Two closed doors lined each side of the foyer with a hallway in between that Justin assumed to lead towards the different wings of the house.

            The parquet floors gleamed in obvious cleanliness.  A grouping of three overstuffed chairs sat in the middle of the room on a Persian rug, a short table situated in front that beckoned the waiting visitor to sit.  Framed artwork dotted along both walls of the foyer, the expert taste visible to even the most untrained eye.  Overall, the room screamed of elegance and Justin found that he was impressed by the finery he saw.

            He glanced over to see both his sister and Dexter glancing discreetly around the room, waiting politely as Marcus spoke to a woman who appeared to be the housekeeper.  He watched as Sofie fidgeted with edges of her gloves, an obvious sign of her discomfort at the elegant surroundings.  After being bounced around in a carriage and slung on the back of a horse, her hair was starting to come undone from its pins and her dress was slightly wrinkled and dusty.  He was not surprised that she appeared out of her element given the circumstances.

            “Please allow our housekeeper, Mrs. Banks to show you to your rooms,” Marcus finally stated as he turned towards his guests, the housekeeper at his side, “The servants can prepare a bath for you if you so desire.  Dinner will be served at half past six so I shall send a footman to collect you at a quarter after the hour.  Does this sound agreeable?”
            “We shall be ready by then,” Dexter stated with a smile towards the nobleman, “I do not know how we will be able to repay your kindness.”

            “Please, think nothing of it,” Marcus said, returning the smile, “It has been a trying day for you in my country and the least I can do is provide hospitality in your time of need.”

            “We are much obliged and shall try our best not to be a bother,” Justin stated, once again marveling at how comfortable, and friendly, he felt around Marcus Ashby while the sister got under his skin so easily.

            “It is no bother at all.  We have plenty of guest rooms to spare and I for one am pleased to have guests to break the lull of the past few months,” Marcus insisted, “If anything, I will be the bothersome one as I will likely request your company during my morning rides.  They sometimes become frightfully dull when riding alone.” Justin laughed.

            “Well I for one will gladly accept the offer,” he responded, “Given the circumstances surrounding our arrival at your home, I will welcome any distraction.”

            “Wonderful.  We shall talk more on this later, but for now, I insist you retire to your rooms to refresh.  I must speak with my mother before she hears word of visitors from a servant as she hates to be caught unawares,” Marcus said as he shook hands with both men and bowed over Sofie’s hand.

            “Our driver?” Sofie softly questioned, voicing what Justin had been thinking.

            “I shall check on his progress but Mrs. Banks informed me that the doctor is still caring for him at this moment,” Marcus explained, “Now if you would excuse me, I shall see you at supper.”

            With a final bow, Marcus quit the room and the trio were left to follow after the housekeeper.  The older woman chattered on about the family and the manor house, her excitement at having guests palpable.  Justin wondered if it was an unusual occurrence for the family to have visitors until he remembered that Parliament was in recess around this time of year and the noble families tended to retire to their country estates for a month before the political and social season resumed.

            The housekeeper had led them down a hallway into the west wing and up a secondary staircase to bedchambers located on the second floor.  The walls were again dotted with tasteful artwork; a long, plush carpet lined the hallway and muted their footfalls.  They stopped about halfway down the hall when the housekeeper halted and pulled a ring of keys from her pocket.

            “I had three chambers prepared for your use, two next to each other and one directly across the hall.  Is this acceptable?” Mrs. Banks questioned as she unlocked the first chamber to their right.

            “That would be lovely,” Sofie replied with a smile in the housekeeper’s direction, “I hope it was not too much trouble to make the rooms habitable for our use.”

            “It was no trouble a’tall miss.  It has been some time since we have had guests to the manor house since the season started,” Mrs. Banks said, pulling the chamber door open, “It is usually quiet here during Parliament’s month-long recess.”

            “Well we greatly appreciate the hospitality,” Justin stated, ensuring that Sofie was securely ensconced in the first room and the door shut firmly behind her, “Especially since we have arrived unannounced and unplanned.”

            “Well young Master Marcus was insistent upon ensuring your stay is comfortable.  And the lord and lady of the manor are equally as kind,” Mrs. Banks said with a large smile, “Now, which chamber would you prefer Mr. Bennington?”

            “Why don’t you take the room next to Sofie,” Justin said to Dexter, ignoring the strange look his friend sent him, “I will be fine across the hallway.”

            “Very well, follow me…”

*****

            Nicole tip-toed quietly up one of the back staircases and made her way quickly to her bedchambers.  Marcus was right in that she would do well not to allow their mother to catch her in breeches for she was very well likely to ensure Nicole was under lock and key for the remainder of their month-long stay at the country estate.  She breathed a sigh of relief once she was safely ensconced in her room, the door shut securely behind her.

            She walked towards her dressing room and gaped in horror as she caught sight of her reflection.  Her dark curls were a tangled mess, a few twigs and leaves twisted in the strands.  Her breeches were dusty, her white tunic covered in a fine film of sand from her tumble off the horse; a smudge of dirt covered her right cheek and she quickly wiped it clean.  In doing so, her shoulder began to ache reminding her that the fall she had sustained had not been without injury.

            Turning her back towards the full-length mirror, she craned her neck and gasped at the large spot of dried blood over her left shoulder.  She quickly pulled the tunic over her head and moved closer to her reflection to inspect the damage.  A long, shallow cut marred her shoulder blade; the injury did not appear to require any stitching but was painful nonetheless.  It was no wonder that the American shipping captain had reacted the way he had; she had been rather foolish in her actions.

            With a quick shake of her head at that irregular thought, she banished an image of those icy blue eyes, full of concern, from her mind.  She would do well to remain at odds with him as she found him altogether too handsome for her liking.  Quickly removing the rest of her riding clothes and undergarments, she slipped into her robe and range the bell for her maid, all thoughts of Justin Bennington fading from her mind.  She had every intention of soaking in a bath before she had to face the new guests over the dinner table.

            Her maid and a few other servants made quick work of preparing her bath and after dismissing them all as she preferred to bath herself, Nicole breathed a sigh of relief as she sank into the heated water.  She bit her lip as the water came into contact with her injured shoulder and with a quick intake of breath, she dipped further down into the steaming bath so that only her neck was visible.  Soon enough, the sting faded away and she let her head fall back against the towel that had been folded behind her neck.

            Leisurely she poured a few drops of scented lavender oil into the bath, inhaling deeply as her favorite scent invaded the bathing chamber.

            Nicole thought back to the conversation that she had with her mother prior to the escape on her horse and the excitement that had followed.  A frown marred her features as she remembered just how adamant her mother had been towards her accepting marriage to the Duke of Eversfeld.  The idea still had her temper flaring.

            She knew that if she were to find herself married to the man, she would likely never be allowed to race on her horse in breeches but would rather be confined to riding sidesaddle in a gown or in the confines of a carriage.  The summer nights that she snuck out of the house for a dip in the secluded pond near the edge of her parents’ property would be a thing of the past.  And her days were apt to be filled with gala after boring party after dull fete.  She sighed dejectedly.

            It was rather her own fault that she was now in this predicament, having been stubborn to refuse suitor after suitor who were far more tolerable matches than the duke.  But far be it for her to want to settle on a gentleman that did not stir her heartstrings or share her love for adventure.

            Blue eyes suddenly sprang, unbidden, to the forefront of her thoughts.  With an angry huff, Nicole again pushed away the vision of the handsome shipping merchant.  He was not the man to set her heart for, especially since he drew her anger like none other had managed to do.

            And she did not even like the man to boot!

            Nicole continued her bath, focusing on her choice of gowns to wear for what was sure to be an eventful and entertaining dinner with the new house guests.  She quickly finished rinsing the last of the grime off her body, stepped out of the bathing tub and began to towel dry.  A giggle caught her attention and after slipping back into her robe, she stood at the bathing room door, listening as she continued to towel her hair dry.

            Two of the maids were busy cleaning up her bedchamber, unaware of their eavesdropping mistress in the adjoining chamber.

            “Did you see the muscles in his arms?” a busty blonde maid questioned as she fluffed the pillows on the bed.

            “I was too busy staring at his eyes.  Have you ever seen such a clear blue?” her red-headed companion countered, a dreamy smile on her face.

            “As blue as the summer sky, don’t you think Abigail?” the blonde replied as she began to close the curtains against the fading light of day.

            “Or the ocean,” Abigail supplied as she lit a few lamps in the room, chasing away the dim light.

            “Did you notice he wears no wedding band?” her companion countered, then looked at her own hand thoughtfully, “Elaine Bennington…hmm, I do quite enjoy the sound of that.”  The two maids burst into a fit of giggles.

            “Did you see the way that he did not even notice Lady Nicole?” Abigail slyly questioned.

            “It must have been a shock for a lady so used to all the gentlemen falling at her feet to have one ignore her so completely,” Elaine added.

            Fall at her feet?  Since when did gentlemen fall at her feet?  And why on earth was she standing at the precipice of her own bedchambers, eavesdropping on the maids as if she had no right to be there?

            With a huff, Nicole dropped the towel she had been using to dry her hair, rang for her personal maid and sailed through the door into her bedchamber.  She pointedly looked at the maids, both who had jumped at the sudden bang the door had made in her hurry to make her presence known to them.  They had the grace to blush and quickly scurried from the bedroom.

            Their departure seemed to take all the fight out of her and with a sigh, Nicole sat at her dressing table and stared at her reflection.  Large hazel eyes stared back, lips turned down in a frown and dark hair a riot of untamed curls.  With a snort at the lackluster image , she rolled her eyes, knowing full well that men did not fall at her feet as the maids had claimed.

            Rather, they bolted away once her bold, impudent and adventurous personality was finally revealed.

            Annoyed at the direction her thoughts were taking, Nicole stood from her dressing table and wandered over to the armoire when her dresses were hung.  She began to flip through them, trying to discern if the frocks relayed the message that she was seeking attention.  Were the color selections too bold?  The cut of some of the bodices too low?

            “My lady, please, allow me to help you,” the gentle voice of Catherine, her maid stated as she quietly entered the room and closed the door quietly behind her, “Mayhap the green day dress?”

            “Maybe something less colorful?” Nicole suggested, avoiding the maid’s gaze.

            Catherine had been Lady Nicole’s personal maid ever since she had been out of the nursery so it was easy for her to tell when her mistress was not her usual self.  Her current mood was quite out of character for the vivacious, outgoing young lady she was used to arguing with over not sneaking out of the house in breeches or climbing down the trellis in the middle of the night to go for a swim.  She frowned.

            “Don’t you worry your pretty head Miss Nikki, I shall have you right as rain in no time,” Catherine replied as she began to pull clothing items and hair ribbons out and lay them neatly out on the bedspread.

            Nicole sat back down at her dressing table and allowed Catherine to work her magic, her mind, thankfully, a blissfully blank canvas.

* * * * * *

            Justin started at the knock that sounded upon his bedchamber door at precisely 6:15pm.  He quickly set down the book that he had been perusing and opened the door to find a servant announcing that dinner would be served in fifteen minutes.  He followed the servant, after they had collected both Dexter and Sofie and tried not to fidget as they made their way to the dining room to meet the rest of their hosts.

            Truth be told, he did not know what to expect from current Duke and his wife as they were likely not prepared to have houseguests.  His parents had provided him and Sofie with the best education as well as lessons in refinement, but he had very little exposure to the upper gentry of England and Sofie had none at all.  Though he would never admit it to the annoying Lady Nicole, he wanted to make a good impression upon her parents.

            He allowed his eyes to wander, trying not to be uneasy and worry overmuch about the situation he now found himself thrust into.

            The dining room was elegant, the walls lined with a beige wallpaper with small moss green leaves, the elaborate curtains of the same moss green framing the large bay window on the far wall.  A gleaming wooden buffet lined one wall while the opposite wall had a large fireplace framed by a mantle over which hung a large pastoral painting depicting a field of wildflowers.  The dining table, situated on a beige Persian rug, was the same gleaming wood as the buffet, the straight-backed chairs with moss green seat cushions enough to seat twelve.  The table was currently laid for dinner, servants hovering, waiting to assist the diners to their seats.

            The trio had been the first to arrive in the room.  Marcus Ashby, resplendent in a midnight blue frock coat, his white shirt pressed and cravat expertly tied, quickly joined them.  He immediately made his way over to the unexpected guests.

            “Are your rooms satisfactory?” the young man questioned as he approached, a friendly smile on his face.

            “They are absolutely beautiful,” Sofie responded, dipping into a shallow curtsey after Marcus took her hand and bowed over it in greeting.

            Justin felt Dexter stiffen at his side and sent a sidelong glance towards his friend; he caught the murderous glower on the shorter man’s face before it was quickly wiped clean into a blank expression.  He had to stifle a laugh at the reaction.  The feelings Dexter had for his sister were becoming more and more obvious and it was only a matter of time until Sofie caught on.

            Though his sister was now caught up in an animated discussion with Marcus Ashby and hadn’t sent a glance in Dexter’s direction since the Englishman had joined them.  Perhaps his sister’s heart was not as set on his friend as he initially suspected…

            Justin’s train of thought abruptly halted as he caught sight of Lady Nicole as she quietly entered the room.  He couldn’t help but stare at her.

            She had traded her well-worn breeches and tunic for an evening gown made of a pale mint green satin overlaid with white lace in an intricate pattern.  A ribbon of the same mint green lay underneath a low, scooped neck bodice and tied in the back.  The sleeves were elbow length and surprisingly, she had left her hands bare.  A small emerald hung on a delicate gold chain drawing his attention to her décolletage.

            Though the dress was in the height of fashion, the color well-suited for a yet-unmarried young gentlewoman, Justin couldn’t help but scowl, thinking that the gown needed more fabric.  It left very little to the imagination and he quickly tore his gaze from her, not wanting to be caught staring.  He noticed that Dexter was also aware of Lady Nicole’s entrance and watched in surprise as his friend quickly made his way over and held out his arm to lead her into the room.

            He rolled his eyes, focusing his attention back on his sister.  Only to find her staring after Dexter, a lost look on her face; Marcus Ashby was across the room conversing with the butler.  And though Dexter led Lady Nicole over to where he stood, he noticed his friend glancing in his sister’s direction.  This was bound to be an eventful evening if nothing else.

            Especially since Lady Nicole now stood directly in front of him, her inquisitive hazel eyes staring up at him.  The manners that had been drilled into him since he was a lad forced him to hold out his hand to her and she hesitantly placed her own hand in his grasp.  He bowed stiffly over her hand while she graced him with the barest curtsey before quickly extracting herself from his grip.

            “That is a beautiful gown,” Justin quietly stated, searching for a safe, mundane topic while he watched Dexter approach his sister.

            “Thank you,” Nicole demurely responded, staring somewhere beyond his left shoulder, her hands now clasped in front of her.

            “Do you enjoy the countryside?” he further questioned, noticing the frosty look in his sister’s eyes as Dexter held out his hand to her.

            “It is rather agreeable,” Nicole stated, now studying the floor.

            Justin brought his attention back to the young woman in front of him, suddenly aware that the feisty tigress who had pricked his temper earlier was nowhere in sight.  He took a step closer and he watched as her eyes quickly darted to his face, widening just the slightest.  A slight flush crept up her cheeks and he noticed that her breath seemed to quicken.

            Before he could say anything, the butler announced the entrance of the Duke and Duchess of Halifax and as Justin turned his attention to the newcomers, Lady Nicole quickly put some distance between them.

            The duke and duchess were a handsome couple.  The duchess was resplendent in a navy gown that matched the color of her eyes, her dark brown hair swept up in a classic updo.  Her husband, the duke was neatly dressed in evening wear, his hand resting protectively at the small of his wife’s back.  Justin was surprised at the open display of affection that typically was rarely shown by the upper crust of the ton.

            Introductions were quickly completed and everyone seated at the table.  Small talk was made while dinner was served, the servants moving quietly about to remove dishes as they were finished and refill glasses as they were emptied.  Justin found himself seated across from Lady Nicole and was therefore aware of how quiet she continued to be during the meal, her participation in the conversation almost nonexistent.  He still found it strange considering their previous encounter where the lady could not keep any of her opinions to herself.

            “So tell me Mr. Bennington, do you and your sister plan on attending any of the ton events while you are visiting our lovely country?” the duchess questioned, interrupting his thoughts about her daughter.

            “Our plans are not yet completely determined,” Justin responded after taking a sip of his wine to wash down the last few bites of dessert.

            “Well I believe that we will be having a celebratory ball once the season resumes,” Jennifer Ashby continued, ignoring the glare that her daughter suddenly sent in her direction, “Perhaps you would care to attend?”

            “That sounds lovely,” Sofie spoke up from her place next to Justin.

            “Indeed.  We are expecting to make a wonderful announcement during the fete,” the duchess continued.

            “Jennifer,” the duke suddenly piped up, noting the unhappy expression on his daughter’s face.

            “Oh hush Daniel, can a mother not be excited at the engagement of her only daughter?” the duchess continued.

            “Mother!!!” Nicole suddenly cried, her hazel eyes emitting fire.  It was the first sign of temper that Justin had seen her show since their initial encounter after her fall from the horse.

            “Oh do calm down dear,” Jennifer responded, her blue eyes suddenly frosty, “Once the season resumes, the announcement will be made at the ball we intend to throw in honor of your engagement to the Duke of Eversfeld.”

            “I told you before mother, that I will not be marrying the man and that is final,” Nicole ground out, her voice starting to rise with every word she said.

            And with that bold announcement, she abruptly stood up from the table and stormed from the room, leaving the rest of the room’s occupants stunned into silence.  Justin, however, wanted to smile.  The little kitten had unsheathed her claws yet again and he could not help but silently applaud her for standing up for herself.

            It was apparent that there was much more to one Lady Nicole Ashby than he initially thought.  This was likely going to prove to be even more of an adventure than he had initially bargained for as long as she was around.