A Friendly Alliance (Heirs of Berkshire, #1)

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A Friendly Alliance (Heirs of Berkshire, #1) Page 15

by Evelyn, Johanna


  She turned her eyes to him, this time doing a very bad job of hiding her smile. “Peter, you know we have promised my father to be there in time for the cake.”

  He sighed dramatically before turning them in the direction of her father’s home. “If you insist. I must get used to the mechanisms of a demanding wife.”

  Juliana giggled. “You are still such a boy.”

  He smiled at her. “And I always will be.” He placed a kiss to her cheek as he stopped, gazing at the lake. “It is our lake now. I intended to give it to you as another wedding present.”

  “No, Peter, you cannot take that pleasure. I intended it to be your wedding gift.”

  He silenced her with a kiss. They would have to practice this very often. No more arguing over a silly lake. They had much better things to do now that they were a married couple, and he would enjoy it very much indeed.

  Author’s Note

  As an author of fiction, I need to walk a delicate balance between reality and make believe, especially in historical romance. In this story I took some creative liberties to make it suspenseful. A woman of quality would never venture to the east end in that time period, no matter how naive she was, at least I like to think so. My reality was that she needed to go there for the sake of the story.

  With the custom of the day, Juliana probably would not have been so willing to find comfort in Peter’s arms no matter how close they might have been, at least from what I hear and read about the age. But the human in me wants to challenge the idea. No matter when you lived, humans have always been the same. We want connections, we make mistakes. This whole series clings to that idea.

  If you are looking for complete accuracy, you probably won’t find it in this series. If you want a quick fun read that will give you your romance fix, you’re in the right place! I have six heirs who will all get their own happily ever after’s. Up next is Walter Longman. His is the story who started it all. Patience and Walter will be the glue to this series, so if you liked what you read, the next book is available for preorder, a link is provided at the end of the book. Enjoy the first draft chapter of The Barrister’s Challenge!

  The Barrister’s Challenge

  Water splashed, spattering mud and grime into the air as Walter Longman’s carriage cut through central London.

  The rain had been relentless the last few weeks. As miserable as it was, Walter supposed it reflected his mood as of late. He peered out the carriage window at the London streets, trying to ignore the pain in his heart when he dwelt on what he’d lost these past few months. He’d thought he put Patience Hawthorne out of his heart when their engagement failed due to her parent’s lack of support. He realized now, he’d always held onto a small hope that things would turn around once he established himself as a respectable barrister.

  Instead, he’d had to watch from afar, reading snippets of her going’s on and subsequent betrothal to another. Still, she haunted his thoughts constantly.

  The carriage came to a stop near Lincoln's Inn, forcing him to pull his musing away from the lady. Today was an important one for his career. He was on a bid to be one of the chosen barristers to take on a large case within the Circuit Courts. Should he win it, he’d establish credibility and a larger pension.

  Walter stepped out onto the street, narrowly missing a large puddle, and paid the driver. The carriage rolled away, horse’s hooves clacking as Walter’s eyes swept the street. Parasols protected the delicate heads of the women, and the men ducked forward, letting the rain droplets fall on the brim of their hats. Walter had donned his own black cloak and top hat, keeping it low over his eyes.

  As he took his first steps toward his offices, a baby blue bonnet caught his attention. He turned, watching as a woman passed near him, clutching a purse. Her dark auburn curls escaped under the bonnet’s confines.

  Walter’s heart leaped into his throat. It couldn’t be—was it? He had to know.

  Ducking his head down, he followed the woman, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. That blue gown and bonnet reminded him of soft hands, whispered promises, and full pink lips.

  She stopped at the corner of the street, fidgeting in her reticule. The curve of her shoulders, her pale neck—Walter was only yards away from her now, so close to reaching out and delicately touching her elbow.

  As she turned, Walter stopped in his tracks. The face was unfamiliar to him, spotted with dark freckles, the chin too pointed, lips thin. She was not his Patience.

  As his heart deflated, Walter scowled at the wet, filthy ground. Thunder rumbled and the sprinkle of rain quickly became a deluge. People hurried around him, trying to get to their destinations without becoming soaked through. The woman quickly crossed the street, meeting up with a man who wrapped an arm around hers, pulling her under the protection of a parasol.

  Walter remained frozen, his jaw clenched, willing Patience’ memory away. He felt people brush against his shoulders, trying to get past him.

  “Mr. Longman!” The voice was loud in Walter’s ears. He turned, lowering his eyes to a man who stood a foot shorter than he. The man raised his thick grey brows. “Aiming to catch a cold?” When Walter didn’t respond, he reached up to pat Walter on the back. “Let me walk with you.”

  Walter didn’t argue. Mr. Welch had been a mentor to Walter, taking him on when no one else would. He had quickly become like a second father. Together, they walked toward Lincoln's Inn, the rain hissing past their ears.

  Once inside, Walter removed his hat and shook it off.

  Mr. Welch chuckled, clutching the top of his cane. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were quite turned around back there, Mr. Longman.”

  “Thought I spotted an old acquaintance.” Walter removed his cloak, trying to sound nonchalant but winced at his own words. Friend... affianced... acquaintance. Funny how relationships changed. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

  Mr. Welch snorted. “Get to work, you heart-sick loon.” Walter frowned at Mr. Welch but the well-respected barrister only chuckled. “You think I don’t notice how you mope around? Clearly, you’ve been jilted. Take my advice—stay a bachelor as long as you can.” Mr. Welch tapped his cane against Walter’s ankles and winked before moving down the hall to his office.

  Walter clenched his jaw as he retreated to his own office, guarded by a heavy oak door with his name on a nearby plaque. He hung his coat and hat, then sat behind his desk trying to sort his thoughts. It wasn’t working, Patience had captured almost every moment of thought since finding out she’d gone to the east end of London only a week ago. He scowled as he remembered Lord Peter Seton, Patience’s new intended, sitting directly across from him in this very room, accusing him of intentionally putting Patience in harm’s way. Frustration flared in Walter’s breast. The very thought! Peter didn’t know how lucky he was to be courting her. It still hurt that Patience was with another man, and he was beside himself at knowing how to wrench his thoughts away from the woman.

  He extracted a file documenting the case he hoped to get, riffling through the papers. He’d almost memorized every detail, trying to purge his thoughts. A man by the name of Hugh Vanderbilt had been accused of murder. Should Walter get the case, he would be pleading Mr. Vanderbilt’s innocence. It would be tricky, but if he succeeded, he would be set in his career. He’d become more desirable to women who sought out a comfortable living.

  He didn’t blame Patience for her parents’ refusal of his proposal. But it still irked him that she leapt into this year’s season and only weeks later found herself the most eligible bachelor in London.

  She claimed she didn’t care for money when Walter courted her. It looked like things had changed. Her being with Lord Seton only added insult to injury, making it quite clear that she had set her sights much higher than he could ever reach.

  Hang it, Walter thought, swiping a hand through his hair. Enough. He would not let Patience get in the way of his career. He banished her from his thoughts once and for all, spend
ing the next hour pouring over the notes of the case.

  Walter pulled his watch out of his pocket and glanced at the time, letting it dangle without putting it back. He leapt from his chair, gathering the file before rushing out of his office. He was about to be late.

  He worked his way down the hall until he found the meeting room where a handful of barristers vying for the case were gathered, shuffling through the same notes that Walter had just been immersed in.

  Mr. Welch patted an empty seat next to him and Walter sat, eyeing his competition. Only three of them would be chosen and he was the most inexperienced of them all. He swallowed, trying to keep his confidence high. Mr. Bamber sat across from him at the long, polished table, looking relaxed and grinning at his competitors the way a fox grins at plump chickens. He caught Walter’s gaze and his grin spread even wider.

  Walter held his gaze, refusing to back down. Mr. Bamber’s eyebrows arched, not expecting the challenge.

  The lead barrister, Mr. Conrad, entered the room, black robes ruffling behind him, his wig almost falling off. “Gentlemen,” he paused, taking a seat at the head of the table. “We have many interested parties and not much time.” He slammed a stack of papers onto the table. “Mr. Vanderbilt’s case. Who would like to be on the defense team?”

  Walter stood, along with three other men his senior, including Mr. Bamber.

  Mr. Conrad’s weathered grey eyes swept over the candidates. “Briefly describe why you would excel at the case. Mr. Bamber, if you could start us off.”

  Mr. Bamber’s dark eyes glittered. “I have been a member of this council for fifteen years. I’ve tackled the most difficult of cases and always come out on top. Clearly, I am the most qualified among us to take on the case.”

  Walter couldn’t believe the man’s overconfidence. He looked to Mr. Conrad to see if he was at all impressed. His gaze was fixed steadily on Mr. Bamber. “Bamber, I recall a number of cases you’ve lost. Do not claim to have won them all.”

  Mr. Bamber’s smile grew forced, his pride obviously wounded.

  Mr. Conrad turned to the other individual—a middle-aged man Walter knew as Mr. Mosby, a well-respected barrister. He looked from Walter to Mr. Bamber, then chuckled, sitting. “I think I will sit this one out, actually.” He smiled at the group.

  All eyes turned to Walter and Mr. Welch. Walter swallowed, forcing himself to remain calm, Patience must have rattled him more than he thought. Mr. Welch gave him an encouraging nod.

  “I am the youngest among you.” Walter looked to Mr. Conrad but kept his head held high. “But I have gained respect quickly on this council. I’ve taken on smaller cases, but each one has been a success. I get to the heart of the matter, and I fight for truth. It’s time to focus my talents on something bigger, if you’ll allow me.” He dipped his head humbly in Mr. Conrad’s direction.

  Mr. Welch spoke up, holding a finger in the air. “I second the motion. Mr. Longman has been most attentive this past year. I have confidence in his abilities to tackle the case.

  Mr. Conrad nodded, his finger tapping his grey beard before he stopped and adjusted his wig, so it fit more snuggly on his head. “Very well then. I will assign you, Mr. Welch, to work alongside Mr. Longman on this case.” His gaze turned to a sour Mr. Bamber. “If Mr. Longman is unable to handle it, I will reassign you to be the lead, Bamber. Are we all clear?”

  The men in the room uttered a sound of agreement, and they adjourned.

  As Walter strode triumphantly out of the office, Mr. Bamber caught up to him. “Well done my friend, though I hope you understand what kind of case you’ve gotten yourself into. It’s not for the faint of heart.”

  Walter forced himself to smile. “I suppose time will tell.” He quickly walked away from Mr. Bamber, heading back to his office, ready to dive into the case once more.

  He picked up the paper he had purchased that morning, flipping it open to peruse the political atmosphere, but his eyes caught the name of Peter Seton. He stilled, reading it carefully. Patience’ name stood out like a beacon that his heart seemed irrevocably drawn to.

  Lord Seton and Patience courtship suddenly ended? Patience taken from London early, hastily, her name muddied? His heart pounded in his chest as he continued to read. Scandal had followed her back to the country.

  Walter knew instantly that her misguided adventure in traveling to the slums of the east end of London had something to do with it. Lord Seton had burst into his office accusing him, of all people, of sending her there. The man had seemed to care about her safety, but did it end there? Was Lord Seton so upset at Patience’ careless behavior, that it would push his affections away from her? If it had, the man was a fool.

  His head started to hurt, today had been lopsided in his attentions, and the woman didn’t deserve to take up so much space in his heart. He winced, shoving the thought of her away. He couldn’t bother himself with Patience any longer. He had to use all his mental capacities to prove a man’s innocence. And he was more determined now than ever to do so. The things he’d studied up on didn’t make sense. Something was terribly wrong.

  Get the preorder now! The release date says October, but the first draft is written so all I need to do is add a little more magic, then I will be releasing earlier than that. (Unless I have an emergency.) Here’s the link! Enjoy! This one’s going to be GOOD! (Not to toot my own horn...)

  Want more? Join my reader’s club here!

  Thank You

  First, I want to thank my readers. Without you, writing would be a more selfish endeavor. You make me want to keep reaching, bending, molding my writing to be better than before. Also, for your patience in getting this next book out. I’ve had so many cheerleaders along the way, giving me prayers, letting me know that my health comes first.

  More thanks to my mother for caring about my writing, being my secretary while I was in the hospital, and being the mom to my kids when I couldn’t.

  Thanks to my editor Miri, and Karen my proofreader.

  My husband for fixing my cover, and all the photoshop work you do for me, even though I know you don’t like it! At all.

  My God, for giving me talent, and the drive not to hide it under a bushel.

  About the author

  My author bio is hanging out on Amazon, so if you would like a more detailed insight into my life, go check there. But here’s a little more for those of you who have made it this far! Go you! I mentioned above that I was in the hospital. I hate it when people drop hints like that and don’t give any details. So here it is. In the fall of 2018, just after the kids when to school, I went to the hospital for a routine procedure to help stretch my bile ducts in my liver. I have a disease called Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis, PSC, for short. What it means to me is that my bile ducts are scarring, much the same way someone who drank copious amounts of alcohol every day for ten years would. Though my body does it all by itself without the assistance of alcohol (lucky me!)

  Every three to five years, I need to do the procedure to keep things flowing in my liver. And every time they do it, I get pancreatitis. It isn’t something I look forward to, but it usually only lasts about a week before my pancreas starts behaving again. This time though, I got necrotizing pancreatitis. I spent three months in the hospital trying to not die. I had every complication known to man (probably), surgery, infections, kidney failure, blood problems, you name it. After six months, I felt better. Nine months, and I felt great! So upwards and onwards!

  I will need a liver transplant at some time, so here’s my official plug. Say yes to organ donation so a favorite author, or football player, or friend, or family has a better chance at kicking their horrid diseases! (P.S. A famous football player succumbed to PSC, that’s why I threw that one in there, I will NOT be writing a football romance haha!)

  Also, writing pulls me out of my own itchy, and at times painful life. It’s my island where disease doesn’t exist! Thanks for coming with me.

  velyn, Johanna, A Friendly Alliance (Heirs of Berkshire, #1)

 

 

 


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