by Abigail Agar
“Maybe, but what’s a man in those clothes doing trading for something as fancy as that ring? It might have even been a signet ring for all I know. Anyway, there was something fancy about him, to be sure. Didn’t have the rough look of a man who should have been buying in a market like this,” she replied.
Delilah shrugged, deciding that it wasn’t worth it to discuss further. The woman was probably just annoyed that he had not come to her to buy carrots and she was looking for ways to complain.
Delilah chose to just ignore her, thinking that her efforts were better spent on trying to sell more apples. Still, she could not get that man out of her mind. He had been…well, he had been a lot of things that she was unaccustomed to.
Handsome, kind, funny. What else? He was not like any other man that she knew or would expect to know.
There were only a few more customers throughout the day and Delilah could not bring herself to care about any of them. Her thoughts were focused solely on the gentleman from that morning.
She headed back home that afternoon, wondering if she would ever see him again. Her father would have been thrilled to know that she had finally noticed someone. He was always criticising her for her independence and laughing about how it was bound to chase away all of the eligible men in the community.
Not that she would ever confess to him that she had been interested in a man that she had met. That was not the sort of thing that they would ever speak about. She would laugh and pretend that there was nothing at all worthy of note and then go and hide in her room.
And then, the next morning, she would do as she always did and beg him to let her sell in the London markets instead.
Well…maybe not this time. Maybe if she sold in Elmswood again, she would see the man once more.
Maybe.
Chapter 3
Samuel was walking just off the road, along a grove of trees, in the hope that he would find a decent place to hide. He could try to go into the trees, but there really was not anything pleasant about that idea.
Still, Samuel was exhausted and he missed his horse. He needed to take a rest from all of the walking and he didn’t have enough money to take a cart or a coach, even if one had come by. And even if he had been willing to risk being seen by someone who could identify him.
There was very little choice other than to keep going on foot, but if he was going to do that, Samuel knew he would have to stop and rest.
The night before, he had managed to rest in an abandoned shed on the outskirts of a farm. But he had been walking all morning and had covered very little ground.
Samuel took in a deep breath, feeling the ache in his muscles. The grove of trees was beginning to look tempting, particularly now that the sun was beating down on him.
He took a seat under the shade of one and pulled an apple out of the bag.
It conjured the image of the young woman who had sold them to him. Her beautiful, hazel eyes. Her swathe of blonde curls that would not stay put where she had pinned them. Her delicately pointed chin and rosebud lips.
She was stunning.
Samuel tried to push the vision of her from his thoughts as he bit into the sweet meat of the fruit. He really wasn’t bothered which of the variety he ate, just so long as he had some form of sustenance. Apples had been the most logical option as they would give him some energy to go on, but also help him not to get too thirsty.
On top of it all, the price was perfect for the small amount of money that he had managed to carry with him.
He wondered about the young woman. She had been extremely amusing and there was certainly more to her than just her beauty. She had had an energy that he found quite thrilling, as though she knew that she was capable of more than just selling fruit in a market.
What would she think of him? What would she say if she had known that he was a wanted man? Would she be horrified to learn that he was believed to have murdered his father?
Of course she would be. Anyone would. Because murdering one’s father was a horrific, dreadful act. And no matter how Samuel tried to deny it, it had already become clear that he would not be heard by anyone.
Samuel wracked his brain about what had happened the night of his father’s death in the hopes that he would learn something of the truth.
It had been an evening like any other. They had played billiards, eaten dinner, relaxed in the library. They had discussed a few options for the trade they were working on.
And then? Then, Samuel had gone to bed.
But what had they spoken of earlier in the evening? There had to be clues in there, somewhere.
“If you are going to be a businessman, you need to ensure that your business is one filled with integrity. There are many who will try to convince you to cheat, but you must remember that you will have a title one day and your reputation will be remembered,” his father said.
“Of course, Father. I will do my best. I will make you proud,” Samuel replied.
“It isn’t simply a matter of making me proud. I want you to make yourself proud. I want you to provide for the future family that you will have. And I want you to simply be a man of good, pure character.”
His uncle had come into the study. He had been staying with them for a few weeks, in town from where he lived in Brighton. There was a young woman that he had planned to visit as he was trying to decide whether or not to court her.
“Ah, are the two of you still planning your business?” Uncle Theodore asked.
“Yes, I am telling him the importance of being a man of honour,” his father said.
“Excellent. The Belstons ought to always be a family untainted by gossip,” Uncle Theodore said, smiling and patting Samuel’s father on the back.
Samuel had always seen the way his father looked out for Uncle Theodore. The two were nearly ten years apart in age, but they were fairly close as brothers.
“Agreed. And as the future Duke of Danwood, Samuel will have to live up to the name of his father and uncle,” his father said with a laugh.
“Well, I shall leave the two of you to your strategising. I look forward to when you begin your business. You know that I would love to have some of that special tea brought over,” his uncle said, referring to a blend of tea spices from the east that a friend of his father’s had served them once.
“Yes, the Assam. It was lovely,” his father said.
“Sleep well, Uncle Theodore,” Samuel said.
“And you, my boy. Brother, goodnight to you as well,” he said.
Once he had gone, Samuel and his father continued talking about the business and all that would be involved. The investments that they still needed, the ships that they would have to rent and the captains who would need to be convinced that this effort was well worth their time.
And then, they had readied for bed.
“Goodnight, son,” his father said.
“Goodnight, Father,” Samuel had replied.
It was their final conversation.
And it meant nothing now. For Samuel, the idea of working in a trade business had gone from a passion to an ugly memory, a nightmare of what he had lost. He was pained by the fact that he had lost his father and now there was nothing for him but running away from a false accusation.
There was nothing from that night that could give Samuel a hint as to what really happened, but he had begun to see why his uncle would accuse him. After all, Samuel’s father had been talking about the title that he would have. That very evening, it had been spoken of.
So, if his uncle believed him to be so passionate about the title, why would he not accuse him?
It had left all of London believing that he was a murderer. And the disguise that he was wearing would only hold them off for so long. The signet ring would eventually give him away, but he was not willing to part with that yet.
Whatever was to come, Samuel knew that he would have to face many challenges. Of all of the questions that he had, whether or not this was going to be easy was not among them. H
e knew the answer to that.
Every step of this journey would be a challenge.
He had been fortunate to have such a surprisingly nice morning with the young merchant, although he had spent much of the time looking around, frightened that he was going to be found out by someone nearby.
But even if that had been the best part of his day, the day was far from over and he still needed to work out a way to continue forward and find a place to sleep. There was nothing at the moment. No sign of anywhere that he could comfortably do that.
Samuel ate another apple and tried to gather his strength.
He could do this. He could rescue himself.
Chapter 4
Delilah adjusted the pillow behind her as she leaned back against the sofa. She was tired of being hunched over apples for hours each and every day and believed, rather firmly, that she shouldn’t be stuck with the duties of a merchant.
She much preferred to be in the orchards, picking the ripe and smooth fruit, enjoying the sun beating down on her and the sound of birds chirping.
But her father had said that she needed to be out of the sun and in public more these days. How else was she going to find a husband? If she was always hidden away in the orchards, her skin burning to a crisp, how was she going to attract anyone?
These worries were always in her father’s mind and Delilah simply had to laugh them off. Otherwise they would wound her. He did not seem to realise that she was more than just material for marriage.
Of course, Maisie was perfectly happy to live as though that was the case. For Maisie, the idea of marriage was the most splendid notion in all the world.
“And he will not only have all of his teeth, but they will be nice teeth. Oh! And did I forget to mention that he will have dark hair, not light?” Maisie asked.
Delilah laughed, still trying to get comfortable.
“So you know precisely what he is to look like, but what else?” she asked.
“Well, of course, he will be kind. He will be the sort of husband who wants my happiness more than anything. He will be more than willing to sell all of his horses for the sake of buying me jewels,” Maisie teased.
Delilah chuckled. She was accustomed to her younger sister’s daydreams, but this was quite a new description altogether.
“So, he will be vastly wealthy?” Delilah asked.
“Indeed. And titled. But not just any title. I have a very specific title in mind,” Maisie said.
“You must tell me at once, I am simply on pins,” Delilah said, her eyes glinting with the excitement.
“He shall be the prince of a far-off land. And I will not be merely his wife, but his princess,” Maisie concluded.
Both girls burst into giggles.
“Maisie, I fear that entering society does not quite work that way. You will enjoy it more than I have, but it is still nothing so grand as what you have just described,” warned Delilah.
“Perhaps not, but I must dream, mustn’t I?” Maisie asked.
“I suppose. Just don’t dream that you will actually be treated to such grandeur. Most likely, we apple farmers will end up with pie-makers,” Delilah said with cynicism.
Maisie scrunched up her nose and looked as though the thought did not please her in the least. But Delilah knew that it was probably going to be the case. They were never going to manage to get out of the life that they were in and it was foolish to expect otherwise.
“Oh, did you see the way Martin Everly looked at me yesterday? I am not even in society yet,” Maisie said.
“But you look like you could be. You are only a year away, Maisie, and you look perfectly old enough to be out already. You should not be surprised when people believe that you have already entered society or treat you as though you have. You are beautiful and the men will notice,” Delilah said.
“Just as they often notice you…” Maisie mumbled.
Delilah shot her a glare.
“It is true and you know it,” Maisie said.
“You needn’t make any comments, Maisie. I have found no one of interest yet,” Delilah said.
“That does not mean that they have not found you interesting. You know that you could easily find a husband if you so wished,” Maisie said.
Delilah shrugged.
“And, perhaps, one day I will. But I do not think that it will be any time soon and I don’t mind that. Why would I want some pompous husband who just wants me for the sake of having a wife?” she asked.
“Probably because they like you for more than that. You are stunning. Your wild hair, your hips that were made to bear children, your bright eyes. They would not refuse you,” Maisie said.
Delilah rolled her eyes. She was perfectly confident in her appearance. What bothered her was the fact that it was all the men saw her for. They were more interested in her figure than her future. Her thoughts meant nothing to them.
“All right, then. If you have not found a husband and have no intention to go looking for one, what will you do? How do you intend to spend your days?” Maisie asked.
Delilah smiled, thinking of the dreams that she had for herself.
“Although I shouldn’t mind being married – eventually and to the right man – I honestly think that I would be perfectly happy as a governess, living in a flat in London,” Delilah said.
Maisie stared at her dumbly for a moment.
“What?” Delilah asked, offended.
“Well, in addition to the very many problematic thoughts you have just created, I thought that a governess is meant to live in the household of the family for whom she works?” Maisie asked.
“Yes, traditionally. But I dream of having a bit more freedom than that,” Delilah replied, knowing that she would never have the sort of freedom that she was speaking of.
“But why a governess? You wish to be stuck with wealthy brats all day? What if they are ungrateful?” Maisie asked.
“Then so be it. I want to use the education that Father insisted upon for us. I love to read and you know that I enjoyed teaching you when we were children and you would run away from Aunt Isabel whenever she came around to teach us. So what more do you expect?” Delilah asked.
“I don’t know. It does not sound half so lovely as being married,” Maisie replied.
Delilah knew that she was better off giving up trying to explain her other thoughts and dreams. Her sister was not going to hear them.
“We have different dreams and ambitions, my dear sister. There is nothing wrong in that,” she said.
“No, I suppose there is not. Anyway, I do hope that you find a dream of a husband some day,” Maisie replied.
It was a nice thought, if somewhat dull. Delilah imagined that she would be perfectly fine, trying to take care of herself and making a life without the unnecessary distraction of a husband. But she also knew that it would help her father if she did choose to marry.
The best part about having a daughter was the fact that she would one day be a mouth fed by another man and not having to be cared for by her father any longer. With sons, there was always a risk of them remaining in the home, working only what little they wanted to.
They were not the wealthiest family in England by any means, but they did well enough. Her father’s orchard was successful, and it brought a great deal of pride to the family.