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CHAPTER1
Perhaps it wasn’t wise to exchange her hand in marriage for a puppy, but Julia couldn’t withdraw from the bargain now. It was in writing, and she held the very letter in her hand. She would miss that puppy, but one day, when she was Oliver Northcott’s wife, it wouldn’t matter. The puppy would be hers again anyway.
She grinned to herself. She had always considered herself to be quite intelligent for the age of eleven, but now she could see that she was just plain clever.
“It’s time to sign the agreement,” Julia said, planting one hand on her hip as she turned toward Oliver. He chewed his lower lip nervously.
Her friend Mary had joined her to be the witness of Oliver’s signature on the letter. It had taken less than two minutes to draft the specifics of their bargain, and Julia could confidently say that everything was done according to her own wishes.
“If I sign this now, then we are as good as engaged.” Oliver glanced up, blue eyes filled with skepticism. Boys at the age of eleven were never quite as clever as the girls. But that was the problem. Oliver was twelve.
He studied the page one more time, brow furrowing. His blond hair shone like golden biscuits in the early morning sunlight. Julia had instructed him and Mary to meet near the edge of his family’s property where their parents wouldn’t find them and see what they were up to. The estate of Larkhall was grander than any Julia had ever seen. It wouldn’t be Oliver’s, for he had an elder brother, but that was a sacrifice she was willing to make. Surely he would find a respectable profession in the clergy or military or something like that.
There were more important matters to consider, such as love. And Julia was in love with Oliver Northcott. She didn’t care who told her that eleven was too young to be in love. She was clever enough to recognize what those flutters in her stomach and blushing of her cheeks meant. If she couldn’t go a day or even an hour without thinking of him, smiling about something he said, then how could she not be in love with him?
“You are being silly, Oliver,” Julia said. “We are too young to be engaged.”
“If I sign this, promising to one day marry you, then wewouldbe engaged.” Oliver grimaced, his freckled nose scrunching.
Julia sighed. “I told you. My future marriage is all my mama will ever speak about. It is very important, you know, and I must not disappoint her. You must promise in this letter that you will marry me so my future may be secure. I cannot fail my mother and never find a husband. If I have this secured now, then I shall never have anything to worry about.”
Oliver hesitated for a long moment, holding his quill against his lips. He squinted up at her from where he sat on the grass with the agreement spread on one of his knees.
“Do you want the puppy or not?” Julia asked, gesturing at Mary, who held the pug against her collarbone. Not only was Mary there to witness Oliver’s signature, but she was also there to deliver the puppy. Each step needed to be as official as possible, and Mary was the sort of friend who would participate in such a strange scheme even if she thought it was, well, rather strange.
“Of course I want the puppy,” Oliver said, scratching his head. His normally jovial expression was knit with concern. He looked up at Julia again, tipping his head to one side as he studied her. Another grimace twisted his lips. “But what if I don’t want to marry you when I grow up?”
She glared at him. “Then you don’t get a puppy now.” She started to walk away, waving Mary forward. It was a risk to do so, because she didn’t know whether or not Oliver would stop her. In the worse case, she would keep the puppy and attempt to trick Oliver into becoming engaged to her some other way. She did love the puppy a great deal. Her father had bred their dog Millie and she had whelped a litter of six puppies. Papa had already sold three of them, but he had given one to Julia and one to each of her two brothers, giving them the choice to sell their puppy and use the money as they pleased, or to keep it.
“Wait!” Oliver’s voice brought a smile to Julia’s cheeks.
She brushed a curl from her forehead, turning to face him. “Yes?”
Oliver had forgotten to tuck his shirt in completely on the right side and the left, so the stiff white fabric stuck out both sides like a bicorn hat. “I think I should like to add a provision,” he said. “I do not understand why you are so concerned about never finding a husband if you haven’t even tried. I think it is only fair that you try first, and if you fail, then I will fulfill this promise. At what age do most ladies marry?”
“Usually within their first season or two, I suppose.” Julia shrugged. “That is what my mama wants for me. Perhaps the age of nineteen would be a reasonable age.”
Oliver bit his nails as he read the letter again. Julia studied him. Love was a peculiar thing. She couldn’t quite understand why she was so fond of this nail-biting boy with a bicorn hat-shaped shirt hem, but when his blue eyes met hers again, her stomach still flipped and flopped. Oliver didn’t seem to know she liked him so much. He thought this was all just a way for her to ensure she was married tosomeone. But the truth was, she wasn’t interested in marrying anyone unless it was Oliver. It didn’t seem possible that her feelings would change. Not so long as she knew him and saw him in town every week.
“Let us revise the agreement to say that if you are not yet married to someone else in ten years, then I will marry you.”
“Ten years?” Julia said with a frown. “I will be twenty-one.”
“Yes. So that gives you two years past the age of nineteen to try a little harder to find a different husband.”
Julia tapped her chin. Well, perhaps thatwasfair. And it could easily be manipulated. She didn’t have to accept any proposals she received before that age. “Very well,” she said. “Let us add the provision and sign it before Mary has to return home.”
Julia threw a sneaky smile at her friend. Mary’s large brown eyes gleamed with mischief. Soon their endeavor would be a success. Julia took the pug from Mary’s arms, nestling it against her chest. The little whelp was only eight weeks old, and she would miss him terribly. “I do hope you live past the age of ten,” she whispered into his floppy ears. “Then you shall be mine again.” She stroked his fur and pressed a kiss to his flat nose before handing him back to Mary.
“Shall I add the provision myself?” Oliver asked, dipping the quill in the carefully balanced inkwell that sat on a rock beside him.
“Yes, and then I’ll read it to ensure I approve.” Julia read over his shoulder as he wrote what they had discussed. When he finished, she picked up the document and read over the entire thing, giving a concise nod. “You must sign it now.”
Oliver glanced at the puppy, a furrow still on his brow, as if he were questioning the wisdom of the idea. Julia held her breath. In truth, she was beginning to question it herself. She bit her lip.
Did she really wish to wait until she was twenty-one to marry? That was what she would have to do. She couldn’t possibly marry anyone else at seventeen like Mama had married Papa if she knew that Oliver was required to marry her in just a few years. Yes, Julia would wait for him. She would have waited even longer if she had to.
A slow smile spread over Oliver’s face as he lifted the quill once again, a smile that made Julia’s heart patter just a little quicker. “This is mad,” Oliver said. “I do hope that dog is well-behaved.”
