Northumberland
Madeleine Kirkby must marry quickly—or lose her family estate to a distant cousin! And after a chance encounter with the man she lost her heart to years ago, she has the perfect prospective husband in mind.
Lord Ashton Ravensfell hasn’t seen Maddy since before he went to war, but it’s clear she has grown into a fetching young woman. So he’s shocked to receive a letter from her, proposing a marriage of convenience. They must be married before Twelfth Night! Ash cannot stand by and watch as Maddy and her tenants are turned out of their homes, and there’s no denying their obvious mutual desire has him more than looking forward to their wedding night....
A Shocking
Proposition
Elizabeth Rolls
Award-winning author ELIZABETH ROLLS lives in the Adelaide Hills of South Australia in an old stone farmhouse surrounded by apple, pear and cherry orchards, with her husband, two sons, three dogs and two cats. She also has four alpacas and three incredibly fat sheep, all gainfully employed as environmentally sustainable lawnmowers. The kids are convinced that writing is a perfectly normal profession, and she’s working on her husband. Elizabeth has what most people would consider far too many books, and her tea and coffee habit is legendary. She enjoys reading, walking, cooking and her husband’s gardening. Elizabeth loves to hear from readers, and invites you to contact her via email at [email protected].
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Dedication
For Michelle Styles, with grateful thanks for a wonderful few days exploring Northumberland.
Contents
Chapter One
The dusty clock on the chimneypiece ticked inexorably as Madeleine Kirkby swallowed hard, gloved fingers tightened on her reticule. “The court won’t rule in my favor? You are quite, quite sure, sir?” If Mr. Blakiston was correct, then a little mental arithmetic would allow her to calculate the exact seconds left for the clock to count down before she lost her home.
The old lawyer, in his dusty black, sighed. “I am afraid not, Miss Maddy. You see, it is not considered wise to leave property, an estate, in the control of an unmarried woman. In your case, a young woman.”
“But I have been running the estate for years!” she said. “Even before my brother died.” Fury lashed her. Stephen had left her to manage his inheritance while he disported himself in London. Yet she was considered unfit to own Haydon.
Mr. Blakiston’s mouth was grim, but he reached over the desk and touched her hand gently. “I know, my dear, and I put all those arguments, but your grandfather’s will was hard to argue against, and your cousin—well.”
It didn’t need to be said. Edward, fifth Earl of Montfort, not content with his own much larger holdings, was determined to wrest Haydon from her hands. He and his father before him had bitterly resented that the third earl had dowered his daughter, Maddy’s mother, with the old manor house and its estate.
“I suppose he’d have the judges in his pocket,” she said bitterly.
Mr. Blakiston, his ears a little pink, said carefully, “There was some talk that you are taking in women of, er, dubious reputation, and that, in short, there was some question as to your own, er, behavior.” By the end of this Mr. Blakiston’s ears were glowing.
Outrage bubbled up. “I took in a dairymaid that my cousin had ruined. Raped, in fact. She is fifteen! A child! And what of Edward’s refusal to permit my marriage?”
As her nearest male relative, the moment Stephen had died, Edward had petitioned the courts to name him her natural protector. He had no power over Haydon—Mr. Blakiston was her trustee—but he had the power to block any marriage until she turned twenty-one.
The lawyer cleared his throat. “As to that, apparently his lordship has made you an offer of marriage himself?”
Maddy clenched her fists at the hopeful note in her lawyer’s voice. “You think I should marry the sort of man who rapes the dairymaids? Yes, he did offer. I refused and he made it clear he would not consent to any other marriage for me! That if I did manage to get married without his consent he would have the marriage set aside. In fact, he has made it utterly impossible for me to fulfill the requirements of our grandfather’s will.” And not just by refusing his consent. He had smirched her reputation at every turn, making her a social outcast here in Newcastle. She doubted there was a gentleman the length and breadth of Britain who would have her to wife now. Certainly not one anywhere between the Tweed and the Tees. Not that she particularly wanted a husband, unless it helped her to save Haydon.
“I’m sorry, Miss Maddy,” said the lawyer quietly. “But unless you mounted a challenge in Chancery there is nothing you can do. His lordship takes possession of Haydon on the seventh of January.”
She didn’t have the money to mount a case in Chancery and her twenty-first birthday was not until Christmas Eve. Hardly sufficient time to find a husband before Epiphany in the best of circumstances. And now, with Christmas coming, she would have to tell her people that she had failed them. That she had lost.
“They would not give me until Lady Day?” she suggested. The end of March; that might be enough time...
Mr. Blakiston shook his head. “No, my dear. I did suggest that, but it was not looked upon favorably.”
Maddy’s heart sank. Her home and her people were lost. She knew what Edward would do. Kick everyone out, and demolish the manor for the dressed stone. All he wanted was extra acres for his sheep. He didn’t care about the people who would lose their livelihoods, families broken apart, children who would end up in factories.
The office door opened and a clerk put his head in. “His lordship is here, Mr. Blakiston, sir. Should I ask him to wait?”
Maddy