Page 1 of The Wise Daughter

Miss Honora Lacy, with her sharp intellect and bewitching blue eyes, had outwitted a great many men in her twenty-three years, which partly accounted for why she remained unmarried and unattached, but she had no idea how she was going to measure up against the great Duke of Ravenglass.

The road before her cut between clusters of lanky trees, weaving along expanses of rippling fields that carried hints of salt and sea on the wind.

Lingering bits of summer hung in the fading green leaves while early autumn chills searched for openings in her collar and sleeves.

She didn’t mind. The day had been hot, and the coolness of the oncoming evening roused her from the stiff numbness she had been riding in.

She loosened her hold on the reins and rubbed her horse’s pale grey neck, comforting when she needed comfort.

“Take heart, Locket. We’ll get you something to eat and a place to rest soon, I hope. I expect the duke will have a great supply of oats.”

But would he possess a fair supply of kindness or mercy?

The past month had taught Nora to rely on her own strength and cunning more than the kindness of those who were once her friends.

Excepting the reclusive widow Mrs. Westlake, who had helped by purchasing the belongings Nora and her father couldn’t afford to keep, not a single neighbor or acquaintance had offered more than a sympathetic word or pitying glance when she and her father lost everything.

Nora pulled out the miniature portrait of her mother she wore as a pendant around her neck and stared at the loving face that so closely resembled her own.

When the ache in her chest grew too tight, she quickly tucked it back into her grey wool riding habit where the cool gilt metal rested against her heart.

The truth was, without her mother, no place could truly feel like home.

With his eyes on the road ahead, her father kept his large, chestnut horse steadily plodding along next to Locket.

Having long ago given up his mourning attire, he wore a fine beige traveling coat and a tall hat that hid his grey hair.

He had been grey for as long as Nora could remember, but his features were only mildly touched by age.

“You’re rather quiet, Nora.”

A quick glance made her wonder whether he had seen her looking at her mother’s picture.

Or perhaps he was still surprised that Nora hadn’t cried or argued when three men arrived at the inn that morning to seize their carriage on behalf of the weasley man Mr. Lacy had lost it to the previous night.

At least, Nora had been able to convince them, much to their chagrin, that the horses could not have been part of the wager.

“I have a great deal to think about, Father.”

“Naturally.”

She waited for him to say more, to offer his own thoughts or prod her with questions, but he maintained his distant silence. It was enough to make the deepest chambers of her patience burst.

“Father, it isn’t natural at all. We’re riding on horseback to beg help from a complete stranger. How can you be so indifferent?” She tightened the grip on her reins, her calf-skin gloves stretching to their limits.

His eyes flew to hers. “Do not mistake my pensiveness for indifference.”

Whatever he claimed, he appeared no more moved than the sheep grazing in the fields.

“I wish you would tell me why you think we stand any chance of success in begging the Duke of Ravenglass for a piece of land.”

Why her father would be so brazenly confident in such a flimsy, foolhardy plan was a puzzle to Nora, which she intended to solve before her father made even greater fools of them and an enemy of the mysterious duke.

Mysterious.

That was how Nora had come to think of him at the end of their three-day journey with only rumors to shape her impressions.

It was astonishing to see how much could be spoken of him without anything of real substance actually being said.

Rumors lined the roadside like breadcrumbs, leaving a clear trail to follow from inn to inn as Nora and her father traveled their way to the castle.

Everyone had something to say about the duke. He was sickly. He was maimed. He was scarred. He was shrewd. Heartless. Raving mad. Too old. Too young. Only a child. One woman swore he didn’t even exist.

All Nora gathered was that the people did not know him.

Everyone, however, repeated the same news of his father, the late duke.

He had unexpectedly died three months ago, leaving his only son to assume the title along with all the responsibilities and wealth it entailed.

This new, mysterious duke had been living abroad, gaining an education and experiencing the world.

Now that he had returned to Holmrook Castle, the rumor-bearers insisted no one ever saw him.

He conducted all affairs through his steward.

Either the duke is a coward, or he’s hiding something.

Neither deduction, however, helped Nora improve upon her father’s designs.

For a time, they walked in silence broken only by the chirps of birds, the persistent clops of their horses, and the occasional passing carriage.

When those sounds faded, Nora thought she could hear the sea, but it was not the peaceful lull of lapping waves.

This was a restless, far-off swash that made her think a storm was blowing in.

Wind blew strands of pale blonde hair across her cheeks, pulling her closer to Ravenglass.

Smells of salt and brine grew stronger, and after passing through another cluster of trees and around a wide, rocky hill speckled with green grasses, Holmrook castle loomed ahead, an intimidating box of grey stone that rose above thatched roof cottages and humble brick homes and shops, keeping its distance just beyond the town.

“Nora,” her father said cautiously, eyeing the castle, “I’m aware of what I’ve done.

As I’ve told you a hundred times, I would take back every bet if I could.

Last night was a mistake. Obviously. Everything appeared so promising at first, but I miscalculated.

I’m moving forward the best way I know how.

I beg you to trust me. Going to the duke is the right course of action. ”

“I wish you would tell me why you are so certain.” How many times had she been asked to trust him so blindly? To what avail? She loved her father immensely, but not knowing things was a state Nora did not like to be in.

“I’ve already told you. I spoke with someone who advised me to go to him, and I was convinced I could trust this person. It was sound counsel.”

“But you will not tell me who this unique informant is.”

“No.”

Since announcing his plan a fortnight ago, Nora had been pestering her father for an explanation, but his lips never budged on the subject.

“Was it Mr. Balding? Lord Newberry?”

“Neither.”

“Was it–”

“No. No more guesses. I won’t answer if you keep making speculations.”

“You wish to keep me from speculating? How ironic.”

“Nora!”

Nora loosened the ribbons of her bonnet, their edges irritating her chin. “I can’t help it. Why should you trust this person, Father?”

“There are things I was told in confidence. There will likely be some awkwardness when we speak with the duke–”

“To put it mildly.”

“But I’m sure he is a sensible man who will see us for what we are.”

“Beggars? Peasants? Vagabonds?” The words escaped before she could muster the strength to hold her tongue.

“No.” Her father spared her a cursory glance. “He will see a respectable gentleman who is trying to provide for his daughter.”

She swatted at a fly buzzing around Locket’s ear. “Is that what you are doing? Providing for me? Does that explain why we are going to the duke on horseback? Or why you lost half my dowry at Ascot and the other half at Newmarket? This is about me?”

If her mother still lived, they never would have plummeted to such depths. Her father never would have lost himself in wagers and debts, trying to forget or escape the pain of losing his wife.

If only he let himself grieve, he might find peace.

It was for her mother’s sake that Nora tolerated his foolhardy habits.

Nora had frequently, over the course of the month, considered running away and finding a position for herself, but she was convinced it wasn’t what her mother would have wanted.

Until her father could face his troubles without lies and betrayals, especially the lies he told himself, Nora would not leave his side.

He stiffened in his saddle. “Nora, what I do is for our future, yours and mine, but especially yours.”

Nora felt the wind pick up speed in sudden, erratic bursts. “Why would the duke trust us? He has no reason to. Even if he does humor us, don’t you think he’ll be curious about what happened to us?”

“I am more than willing to explain to His Grace that, after due consideration, I placed my assets in a speculative venture that failed to deliver on the promised returns.”

“Meaning you gambled away everything we owned. And to be perfectly accurate, there have been quite a few of these speculative ventures. It would be wrong to mislead the duke into thinking there has only been one.”

“I’ve already told you, Nora,” his voice rising. “I’m dreadfully sorry. There’s no need to be a quiz about it. I’ve sworn off gambling forever.”

As angry as she was, her heart softened a tiny bit to hear him repeat his apology, even if she didn’t believe his promise. “Wouldn’t it be easier, Father, or far more appropriate to request a position among the duke’s staff? I could work if I had to.”

“A servant? You would have me be a servant? Honora, our blood traces back to–”

“The Saxon kings of old. I know. You’ve repeated that tasty little fact, which you cannot prove, at least a hundred times since we left on our journey.” Would she ever hear the end of it?

“Well, it’s the truth, and it bears repeating. All I need is one minute with the Domesday Book, and I’m sure I could prove it.”

She rolled her eyes. “How unfortunate we don’t all have a copy.”

“Nora, this is no laughing matter. I won’t be the first in a long and noble line to debase myself by groveling to be a servant.”

“Just remember, Father, the Saxons were defeated.”

Her father sighed loudly enough to be heard over the steady clops of their horses. “For all your cleverness, Nora, I wonder how it is that you haven’t yet secured a husband.”

A seam in her glove burst from gripping the reins too tightly. “That isn’t fair, Father.”

“All that money wasted on tutors and private lessons. What good has all your learning brought us? Why couldn’t you have accepted Lord Newberry? We wouldn’t be in this predicament right now if you had accepted his offer.”

Nora shook her head. She refused to shoulder the blame for their current troubles.

She might flee to another town to become a governess or lady’s maid, but she would never escape into the arms of a man as old as her father who had nothing in common with her.

As for all the expensive tutors and private lessons her mother insisted she have, well, Nora would prove that was money well spent.

“You’re all I have left, Nora. Please trust me. I’m going to set things right.”

But what did he have left to tempt the duke? What did her father have left to bargain with? The only thing he hadn’t gambled away besides the horses was…

You’re all I have left, Nora.

Oh, no.