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“No. Absolutely not.”
Selkirk sat forward and reached for her.
“Victoria….”
“No, Papa, no!” Victoria backed away. “I won’t marry Sebastien Mowbray! I will never marry him! Never!”
“This isn’t up for debate, Victoria,” her mother said sharply. “You’re going to become Lady Mowbray.”
“Absolutely not!” Victoria screamed.
The thought of having anything to do with that family, especially in that capacity, was leaving Victoria struggling to breathe. Gasping for air, she staggered against the window seat. This couldn’t be happening. It really couldn’t.
But the expressions on her parents’ faces said that it was. And they were steadfast on this.
Unable to look at them, Victoria turned to the window, shutting her eyes tightly as the tears began to build.
***
Rafe was glad when they returned back to the shack they called home. They had been tracking some elk for some time, and they had settled near the river, closer to home than he expected. They had managed to get two of them, and it had taken two days to strip the hides off them before getting whatever meat they could get to take back to their homestead.
After all this time, Rafe would be glad never to eat elk again. It was nice for a while but having it all the time got tiring after a bit. He was looking forward to going back to civilisation and having chicken or turkey, maybe even some beef. Anything that wasn’t elk.
This job did pay well if they got what they were meant to get, and they got plenty of it, but when there was nothing around, the money dried up. Rafe had to admit that this helped him monitor what he had and look after his money better. Far different from living as an Earl’s son with a hefty allowance that he would use most of as soon as he got it. At least he was learning how to be a better person when it came to finances.
Had he grown as a person? Rafe had no idea. He was still haunted by everything that had happened and filled with regret that he could never go back. That had been the agreement, and Rafe had to stick to it.
Maybe he should move on. Go further north. There was a country he had heard about, Canada. Apparently, there was a lot to look forward to there. Or he could venture to the south and see what he could get there. Wander around and pick up various jobs. With nothing to tie him down to one place, he could do whatever he wanted.
And nobody would need to know that he was a disgraced Earl’s son. He could build up a reputation on his own instead of what he had left behind.
Once the month was up, Rafe would see how things were going elsewhere. He didn’t want to be a tracker and hunter for the rest of his life. There had to be more to do.
He was the last one to finish putting away his horse’s equipment, and it was silent in the stables as he brushed down Dark Ash. Nobody to talk to, nobody to tease him about his title. Just time to himself, which was rare.
Plenty of time to think.
“Rafe, where are you?”
Rafe looked around as the stocky shape of Charlie Mayfield appeared at the opening of his stall, sweat beading his bald head. His closest friend in the hunting group looked like he had been running. Charlie held up a letter.
“I’ve got something for you. It’s probably from your family again.”
“That would be about right. It’s about due.” Rafe carried on brushing Dark Ash. “Would you mind reading it to me? I don’t want to get in trouble for not looking after my horse.”
“As you wish, my lord.”
“I’m not a lord anymore, Charlie.”
“I know, but it’s still amusing that we have someone coming from money as a part of our group.”
Rafe rolled his eyes.
“You’ve been saying that for years. Doesn’t it ever get old?”
“Not really.”
Rafe couldn’t be cross at Charlie. The two of them were close, and they had formed a strong bond since Rafe stumbled upon them in Washington. Charlie was the one who saw something in the younger man and stood up for him in order to make Steven agree to bring him along. Rafe wouldn’t have been able to prove his worth if it hadn’t been for Charlie.
