Chapter One
“Nearly home, sir!” the coachman said, grinning and tipping his hat. As if it were good news.
Henry Willenshire forced a tight-lipped smile and climbed back into the carriage. They’d changed horses for the last time and would reach his family home all too soon.
If a wish could have carried him back to France, he would have done it in a heartbeat. As it was, his absence had earned him frowns and faintly veiled disapproving remarks from his family.
The four Willenshire siblings were in a rather…uniqueposition. The eldest boy, William, had of course just inherited their father’s title of the Duke of Dunleigh, and they had all naturally assumed that, on their father’s death, they would inherit parts of the tremendous Willenshire fortune, too.
Not so. There were conditions to their inheritance.
Henry clenched his teeth. Every word of that will, his father’s will, was burned into his brain.
“In case my family should forget what is due of the Willenshires and the great Dunleigh Estate, I have chosen to remind them. While I cannot stop my eldest son inheriting his title and the small amount of money attached to the estate, the rest of the property and money is mine to dispose of as I wish. The inheritance due to my widow will remain unchanged and unencumbered. However, before my children may access their inheritance, they are required to marry in a court of law. On the date of their marriage, they may receive their full inheritance…”
It was unprecedented, as far as Henry knew, a man of the late Duke’s standing leaving a stipulation in his will to forceallof his children to marry to receive their rightful inheritance. And there was a deadline, too. They had twelve months from the date of the will’s reading to marry or lose their money forever. Henry remembered vividly how he’d felt, how numb and surreal it had all seemed, like it was a bad dream that he would wake up from at any moment.
Of course, none of them were pleased about the will. A further stipulation had left Katherine, Henry’s only sister, obligedto marry first, or else none of the boys could receive their money. Another unfairness on the late duke’s part. One of many.
Henry let his head tilt back against the carriage seat. He’d considered taking up apartments in town, rather than facing his family, but really it cost too much. Still, he wasn’t ready to relinquish his freedom altogether, so perhaps he would have to find the money from somewhere. It wasn’t as if he could borrow it. William, the new duke, had not received his inheritance yet. With the exception of Katherine, none of them were married.
She’s lucky,Henry thought glumly, conjuring up images of his sister’s smiling face on her wedding day. Timothy Rutherford was an old family friend, and the two loved each other. Even Henry could see that.
With a lurch, the carriage came to a halt, some time after the last stop. Henry could not have said how long, only that he very much did not want to go home.
The place doesn’t even feel like home.
Rain was falling lightly, slowly soaking the gardens of Dunleigh House. It was an ugly place, in Henry’s opinion, especially when compared to the beautiful, sun-drenched stones of Spain, Italy, and France.
Don’t think about it,he told himself, grimly climbing out of the carriage and leaving the coachman to take down his bags and boxes.You’re not there. You’re here. For now, at least.
“Ah, the prodigal returns. I was sure you’d find more business to keep you abroad.”
Henry darted up the stone steps, ignoring his brother.
William Willenshire, the new Duke of Dunleigh, was leaning against the doorway, arms tightly folded and lips pressed into a thin and disapproving line. Henry shook off the lingering dampness from his hair, like a dog.
“Hello, Will. No, ‘welcome home, Henry’?”
William rolled his eyes. “Welcome home, Henry. But let’s not pretend that you want to be here.”
Henry said nothing. He had been pursuing something to do with wine, which could have kept him in France for months yet, but it had all fallen through, unfortunately. But all was not lost. There was a self-made gentleman, Mr. Charles Fairfax, who might make a decent business partner. Henry had made his acquaintancerecently and they had promised to meet up again in England. Anything to distract him from the fact he had to marry or live destitute.
“Some messages arrived for you today,” William said abruptly. “Lord Percy Fletcher wants to see you, your old friend.”
“How nice. I haven’t seen Percy for a while. Is my old room ready?”
“I’d like a quick word with you, first,” William said shortly, turning on his heel and walking along the corridor. He didn’t wait to see if Henry followed him.
Henry bit his lip, considering how funny it would be to ignore William’s summons and just go on up to his room.
Sighing, he followed his brother.
They passed through a cavernous hallway, ceilings swooping high and forbidding above them. A vast family portrait glowered down at passersby underneath. The family resemblance was clear, glittering hazel green eyes staring blankly, chestnut locks gathered in neat, sedate arrangements around faces and necks. Henry saw himself there and tried not to look. He’d been younger then, already longing for the freedom of travel and escape. His dark hair was massed around his head, his eyes darkened by the painter. Beside the pale, oval faces of his older brother and Katherine, he looked plain and ill-tempered.
Alexander, the youngest of them all, was the only one who was smiling.
“Where’s Alexander?” Henry asked impulsively, lifting his voice to carry over the clack-clack of their boots on the marble floor. “I thought he’d be here to welcome me.”
