by Jen Yates
He was eighteen and some would say too young to know his mind.
Sometimes it felt like he’d been born knowing.
Born to love Lady Liberty Davencourt.
Why the fuck fate had seen fit to make him the son of the miller, he would never understand. But he wouldn’t let that stop him.
Couldn’t.
They skirted the old dry moat around Stannesford Hall to the back of the stable block where Lord Stannesford was watching a groom put a young filly through her paces.
The Earl of Stannesford was a big dark man with a brooding countenance that rarely lightened. At Levi’s arrival he dismissed the groom and with barely a glance strode around the end of the old timbered stable block to a secluded corner of the yard.
His gloved hand was clenched about the haft of a sturdy riding crop.
Still closely flanked by Mr. Reeves and Gloames, Levi flexed his shoulders in the confines of his coat and tried to loosen the tension building in the muscles of his legs and arms. He was still in fight or flight mode and neither response sat right with him.
Even if what he faced was a thrashing with the steadily tapping riding crop.
Three to one. He didn’t stand much of a chance.
Confrontation it was then.
His usual modus operandi.
He gritted his jaw and folded his arms. Levelling Stannesford with a direct stare, he eased his stance and waited.
The Earl’s whole body tensed and the blue eyes as dark as Levi’s own, threw dagger-bolts of fury at him. The man was not accustomed to being defied by his inferiors.
‘You took the liberty of accosting my daughter and behaving in a clandestine and scandalous fashion at the fair this morning.’
And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
‘I did, my lord. And I‘d take the liberty of asking much more if I thought there was a prayer of you granting it.’
Well—head on was how he’d always faced a challenge. But the narrowing of the earl’s eyes and the deepening of the scowl across his brows didn’t bode well for the outcome.
‘We both know the answer to that, Longfellow. I will concede you likely took no more than my daughter was willing to give.’ He stopped, bit back what was clearly an oath and continued. ‘But that means, rather than antagonize her by ordering you horsewhipped, as you deserve, I’m banishing you from Stannesford.’
Banishing?
The word caught him in the solar plexus like an unexpected horse kick to the gut. He barely managed to control the reflexive flinch.
Da would be dismayed, furious.
There would be no arguing with a decree by his lordship. He would have to leave Stannesford, his family, the mill and the livery stables.
Liberty.
His chin wanted to drop to his chest in defeat but he would not give Lord Almighty bloody Stannesford the satisfaction.
‘With respect, my Lord, my father has come to rely on me at the mill—’
‘You should have thought of that,’ Lord Stannesford all but snarled, cutting off his protest. ‘Your continued presence in the village is a risk to my daughter's future. The scandal of what you’ve dared is not to be considered.’ The riding crop smacked against his polished riding boots with a warning crack. ‘I’ve not spent my life protecting my family against the destruction of scandal to have it all sabotaged by one who was granted the freedom and privilege of my home for the first twelve years of his youth.’
Dragging air in through his nostrils, Levi clenched his teeth hard enough to grind them back up into his jaw. He’d not waste energy refuting what was truth.
‘You were given chances very few are offered. Even now I’ll not send you forth unassisted. I can give you letters of recommendation—but you will go.’
Levi burned with mute impotence and a hunger for the kind of power the Earl of Stannesford wielded merely by virtue of his title and his status as Lord of the Manor.
One day, he, Levi Longfellow, would have that kind of power and no one would tell him where or how he would live. The flare of resentful anger robbed him of the ability to form a response.
‘I know horses are your first love and I’ll send you a recommendation that should secure you a place on any stud or in any stables you apply for. It's an opportunity that could take you far. Just make sure it takes you away from Lady Liberty.’
Not bloody likely.
Everything he did from this moment forward would be working towards being with Liberty Lou.
‘Thank you, my lord.’
Feeling anything but grateful, he managed a curt motion towards his forelock and strode away down the drive from the stables.
He’d be damned if he’d run—or skulk—or give any other indication of the fountain of fury burgeoning inside him. Not until he was out of sight of the Hall, safe in the seclusion of the woods and then—
His fist left his side and slammed into the trunk of an ancient elm, the pain slamming though his body like a burst sack of grain, spewing in all directions at once.
Fuckfuckfuck.
How would he tell his parents? What would Da say? And Mama who went every day to work at the Hall?
How would Da manage at the mill and the livery stables? Levi had taken over most of the running of the stables and his father had come to rely on him.
Philip was sixteen and built like a young ox. He would just have to step up.
With long rabid strides he returned to the stables, let himself in and barreled down the aisle to the empty stall at the end where a large leather punching bag hung from the rafters.
Thwamp. Thwamp. Thwamp.
Even the pain in his bleeding knuckles couldn’t stop him.
Liberty is mine. Liberty is mine. Liberty is mine.
The mantra ran over and over in his head, every punch punctuating, emphasizing the statement. Nailing it to the wall of fate and destiny.
His fate and destiny.
Liberty Lou’s.
Theirs.
When the adrenaline of rage finally leached from his blood he dropped bonelessly to his backside on the hard floor of the stall. Head back against the wall, arms hanging on his bent knees he waited until the bellowing of his lungs settled into an easier heaving.
He brought his focus to Lord Stannesford’s promise before he’d added the caveat that had finally almost blinded him with anger.
He’d receive a recommendation that would secure him a place on a stud.
That, right there, was the nugget of gold in the quagmire that had suddenly become his life.
All because he’d dared to kiss Liberty Lou. He’d do it again, even knowing what chaos it would cause.
But that one nugget of gold would give him, Levi Longfellow, son of a miller, the chance to learn the intricacies of stud breeding and management.
Just being a stable-hand would never satisfy the fires that burned within him, the raging need to raise himself above his lowly beginnings and become worthy to claim the hand of a lady.
If he could force himself to stop railing against fate and start working with it, he might find the earl had just handed him the first pointer on his quest.
***
One Year Later—May Day 1806.
‘You're not thinking of going closer, are you?’ Phillip demanded.
His brother could be annoyingly pedantic and unimaginative and Levi was in no mood for either. He’d been gone a year and was only back now because Lord Wolfenden had allowed him and Toby, another groom, to bring four of their riding-ready hacks to the fair to sell.
The Earl of Stannesford couldn't complain about his presence when he was only here in the course of his job.
But his devious efforts at getting to the fair would go for naught if all he could do was stare at her from afar.
She was the bloody May Queen.
Way beyond his reach on a throne elevated above the crowd.
Everyone from the damned Earl of Stannesford himself to the lowliest village brat paraded before her to notice and b
e noticed by their Queen for the day.
He could legitimately join the throng, but the reason for his banishment from Stannesford a year ago was a juicy bit of tattle that had flowed through the village with the feckless chatter of the Stannesford Brooke—in spate.
There were too many who would seek to curry favor with the Lord of Stannesford Hall by reporting any blatant approach the miller’s son might make to the May Queen.
Besides which, he didn't want to make trouble for his parents.
But he couldn't drag his eyes from the young woman on the throne, auburn hair glowing like polished copper in the sun beneath the sparkling faux gems of the May Queen's crown.
Queen of his heart.
He’d gifted it to her the day they’d climbed their first tree together. It had been his idea to climb high enough to hide from Longie. With no small amount of terror she’d willingly followed him up into the concealment of the leafy elm on the edge of the lawn, green eyes shining with excitement and determination.
She’d kicked off her shoes and stockings, hiked her skirts and followed him with the agility of a cat. Going up had been easy and even at seven he’d been competitive and determined to climb higher than anyone else might.
And where he led she was right beside him.
So they’d climbed.
High enough they could see the house martins flying in and out of their nest under a jutting window ledge on the south wall of the Hall.
High enough Longie had to enlist help to find them.
High enough the stable lad had to climb up to help them down.
His Mama had given him several resounding smacks on the backside and they’d been sent to sit in opposite corners of the schoolroom. Smarting, he’d fought not to cry and Liberty pouted and complained that it wasn’t fair he got punished when she hadn’t.
She was all about loyalty and justice even at five years old.
And matching his daring, whatever form it took.
That had never changed and his regard for her would never change.
She was his.
They were meant for one another, meant to be together and while he could see no way to make that happen, he would not stop dreaming—and trying.
Could not.
‘Someone's going to notice and tell his lordship if you keep staring at her like that.’
His brother was right, but it didn't make him appreciate his comment any more.
‘If I could just slip under the stage where no one could see me, I might be able to talk to her.’
‘And if Lord Stannesford found out he'd make it impossible for you to ever return to the mill. For God's sake, Levi, we need you here. Da needs you here. He's not been himself this last year.’
‘What do you mean?’ Levi asked sharply. Finally able to drag his eyes from the bright allure of Lady Liberty Davencourt. ‘How has he not been himself?’
‘He can't heave the heavy sacks like he used to. He leaves most of it for Lenny and me.’
‘You two can handle it, can't you?’
‘Aye. But it's not like Da to hang back when the pressure’s on—but he’s been doing that of late. I've even caught him dozing off in his chair in the cubby a time or two. That's not our Da.’
It wasn't.
Levi swore softly. He'd noticed the dark bruise-like shadows around his father's eyes, and the deeper lines of strain around his mouth, but he’d preferred to ignore anything that took his focus away from his one aim of getting closer to Liberty.
His actions courted Lord Stannesford’s censure and that could, and likely would, fall on the entire family. If that happened, not only would Mama and Da suffer, so would his younger siblings.
He and Liberty stood in similar case to one another, poised to ruin their family’s future if they persisted in their desire to be together.
He turned to look back at her, trapped in the regal splendor and the very public display of her role and unable to even blink in acknowledgement of his presence, but for just a moment he'd swear her luminous green eyes were fixed on his with a steady regard. It would have to be enough.
For her sake and the sake of his family he did not dare more. But he knew himself better than to think he could ever give her up.
He had to see her before he went back to the Wolfenden stud in Berkshire.
***
Wreaths of dawn mist teased the trees in the orchard and glistened like frosting on the new buds. She loved this magically eerie time before the sun crested the horizon, before the birds began their dawn chorus and the breeze had not yet awakened.
Eyes achingly wide, Liberty leant against the sash and gazed out on a landscape curiously frozen in the moment—like her heart.
Through the trees and along the lane at the back of the shops on the London road, Levi slept at the mill house. Were they forever to be so far apart?
Seeing him yesterday and not being able to go to him had mended the chasm in her chest and rended it even more cruelly.
He’d been gone a year and she’d fought to put him from her mind, from her heart, but it was a futile endeavor. Levi Longfellow was deeply rooted in her soul, way beyond the feeble machinations of mind or heart.
A soft scratching came at the door then it cracked open and Edith Longfellow, Levi’s sister who now worked as Cook’s assistant in the Stannesford Hall kitchens, slipped into the room.
‘Libby? Oh good. You’re awake.’
They’d shared the schoolroom for many years and there would never be formality between them in private.
‘Edie? What’s wrong?’
Liberty’s heart was jittering about in her chest like crickets in a jar. Edith never came upstairs. She was Cook’s apprentice and as such had no need to go anywhere in the house but the kitchens.
That she’d taken the risk of coming up to Liberty’s room could only mean one thing.
‘Levi—he’s waiting down in the woods at the end of the garden. He asked me to tell you. I’ve got to go now. I don’t want Cook asking where I’ve been.’
‘Oh.’ Liberty swallowed down the lump of terrified exhilaration and before she could form even a word of thanks Edie had vanished.
For a moment she stared at the closed door in utter panic, unable to think what to do. Then she took a deep breath and felt her blood start flowing again and her mind—
Dear God. Levi waited for her in the woods.
Suddenly she was a whirlwind of action, throwing on a dress over her chemise and a dark green hooded cloak over that. Taking her boots in her hand she started stealthily down the back stairs.
The safest way to sneak out was through the conservatory since there would be no one around that part of the house at this early hour. Once outside she pulled on her boots and steadied herself against the towering stone wall for a moment while she settled her breathing.
She would not even consider Papa discovering her wickedness.
He could not.
Stepping onto the grass she hurried around the house until she came to the orchard, far enough from Mama and Papa’s windows to feel safe. Then she clambered over the style, gathered her cloak in both hands and ran as she hadn’t done since Levi had used to come to the Hall with his mother.
He was waiting for her.
In minutes she’d be in his arms.
Her legs churned as fast as Cook’s wooden spoon when she was beating eggs for a soufflé. She only slowed her mad dash when she reached the safety of the woods where her dark cloak was perfect camouflage.
She’d barely penetrated beyond the pale morning light and her clamoring pulse had not eased at all when he stepped out of the deep shadows into her path.
‘Liberty-Lou,’ he grated, a note of reverence in his voice. Grasping her arms he drew her close against his chest. ‘Thank God you could come.’
‘Oh. Oh, Levi,’ she gasped, scarcely able to catch breath, let alone speak or think.
Her arms went around him, her hands climbing the hard planes of his back to clutch at his neck
, dive into his hair and pull his head down to hers.
Their mouths met in a clash of heated breath, incoherent groans and desperation.
That sense of wholeness she’d recognized a year ago behind the gypsy’s tent stole over her again, seeping into her entire being. Starting at the surface of her skin, and with Levi’s warmth and energy surrounding her, it permeated her muscles, her blood and spread like the heat of the sun into every organ in her body.
When they stood together like this the world righted itself.
‘I’ve missed you, Lou. But one day I’m going to have the finest damned stud in the Shire. Then I will have something to offer for your hand. I just needed you to know I won’t give up. I want you for my wife. Is that what you want, Lou?’
‘Yes. Oh, Levi, yes, but—,’ she whispered pressing desperate kisses to the corners of his mouth, to the square determined chin, to every sliver of naked skin she could reach.
‘But what?’
He’d grown so tall, so manly and while she was taller than average for a woman, he towered over her. They’d had an intimate knowledge of one another as children. They’d tumbled and raced and sometimes physically fought together.
Levi’s body had been as familiar as her own. But this Levi, this man’s body, she needed to learn all over again.
The breadth of him, the towering height, the resilient muscle over strong bones, the beloved scent of him.
Needed to embed it all in her deepest, safest memory for she just knew, with the family tendency to prescience, it would not be as easy as Levi believed it would.
‘But even if we can never be together I will always love you. Always treasure what we have shared together. What we have been to each other. Always.’
‘We will be together, Lou. I will make it so,’ he whispered fiercely, his mouth mere inches from hers and his eyes shards of blue-shot obsidian, glowering down at her.
Hope, despair, panic, certainty all swirled in her gut and tangled in her throat.
Panic won out.
‘I dare not stay long. If Papa should discover us I cannot imagine what he would do. When do you return to Berkshire?’
‘Within the hour. Damn, I don’t want to leave you.’
His arms tightened, his lips pressed into her hair. Hands cupping her face and thumbs lining her jaw, he tilted her face upwards and brought his mouth down hard on hers.