by Sawyer North
She lifted her eyes from the ground to once again note the towering presence of St. Paul’s Cathedral. The last time she had walked this way, she had offered a silent prayer, only for Adam to immediately fall into her path. This time, she offered a new prayer—one of gratitude for her astonishing friendship with him and a plea for reprieve from the lonely hardship to come. To her dismay, Adam did not appear.
“Here we are, dear.”
Aunt Hester’s announcement drew her attention to a familiar door, behind which lurked Mr. Rutley. She pictured him there, likely rubbing his hands together with glee in anticipation of her impending destruction. She grimaced and tried to accept the miserable reality. Her freedom would end the moment she stepped into his lair. As they approached the door, she voiced final concerns.
“How will I live, Auntie? I cannot even sell the mill. Mr. Rutley placed a lien on it in my absence. He seems determined that I suffer as much as possible.”
“I know, Jane. Chin up, though. We will find a way.”
She shook her head. Adam had promised the same but seemed powerless to keep his word. In fact, she had neither seen him nor heard from him since her return to London. That alone might have crushed her had not the distressing circumstances proved so distracting.
After reaching the door to Rutley’s office, she collected her courage, straightened her back, and grasped the doorknob. She remained determined not to shed tears. He did not deserve that little bit of satisfaction. Arm in arm, she and Aunt Hester entered the office. As her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior, she spied Rutley slumped in his chair behind his massive desk. The man’s expression appeared unusually dour in what should have been a moment of triumphant pleasure. Standing beside the desk was Mr. Barlow, as expected. He stepped forward and bowed.
“Good day, Mrs. Byrd. Miss Hancock.” His greeting proved surprisingly cordial given the ugly nature of the meeting. When Jane narrowed her eyes at him, he spared her the barest hint of a smile. Her suspicion mounted, but she had not come for pleasantries. She halted three steps shy of Rutley’s desk and clenched her hands together at her waist.
“Mr. Rutley. I have come to declare my insolvency, confess my inability to repay my debts, and proclaim my readiness to accept the consequences.”
The speech she had rehearsed for two weeks emerged with all the bravado for which she had hoped. She took a small measure of pride in that and peered intently into her creditor’s eyes, unflinching. Rutley met her gaze silently for a solid ten seconds before his scowl drew deeper and he glanced away in disgust.
“Tell her, Mr. Barlow.”
Barlow’s smile became more pronounced. “But sir, do you not wish to share the fortunate news personally? After all…”
“Tell her, I say. I am finished with this affair.”
Jane’s intense stare shifted rapidly between the two men before settling on Mr. Barlow. “What news? What has happened?”
“Yes, Simon,” said Aunt Hester, “Tell us, if you please.”
He folded his arms and leaned against the wall with an uncharacteristically lazy grin. “It seems, Miss Hancock, that Mr. Ashford arrived earlier this morning and promptly breached the contract, rendering it null and void.”
She frowned deeply as her brow knotted. “Breached the contract? How?”
“It seems that Mr. Ashford brought most of the gold, but not the contracted amount.”
Her confusion deepened. What had he done? “But you were there with us at Coniston, sir. The box contained the fully contracted amount. For him to have lost or taken any would place him in great legal peril.”
“He neither lost nor took any of it.”
Jane released Aunt Hester’s arm and moved to stand a mere step from the solicitor. “Please, Mr. Barlow. I fail to understand. We signed a contract.”
He glanced at Rutley and chuckled. “Yes, you did sign a contract. However, there is one legal device that supersedes a contract.”
“What is that?” She held her breath as tendrils of hope seeped into her soul.
“A prior contract. When Mr. Ashford arrived in London, he moved to settle the contract between his great-grandfather and Mr. Chance’s father. As it turns out, the matter featured an astonishing oversight.”
“An oversight?”
“Yes, indeed. It seems that Mr. Chance’s father had never been discharged from service to the Ashford-Hancock partnership. Furthermore, he had passed that obligation to his son, Thomas. As such, Mr. Ashford realized that he owed Mr. Chance seventy years of backpay for faithfully executing his contracted obligation of protecting the gold. Therefore, at Adam’s vehement insistence, I filed a lawsuit one week ago against the Ashford family on behalf of Thomas Chance.”
Jane’s eyes grew wide. “You filed suit against Adam? At Adam’s urging?”
“Yes.” Barlow laughed. “The thought of it amuses me still. Never have I heard of a man begging to be sued. Anyway, by calling in favors from various members of the judicial establishment, I was able to move the case before the court at Old Bailey’s just yesterday.”
If such was possible, her eyes widened further. “You took Adam to court yesterday? On Thomas’s behalf?”
“I did indeed. Thanks to my highly effective oration and Mr. Ashford’s abject refusal to mount a defense, the judge found Adam in breach of the original contract and ordered him to repay Mr. Chance immediately. Furthermore, at my strenuous suggestion, the judge ordered that as appropriate punishment, the sum must be repaid from the very gold Mr. Chance had protected all those years. Adam agreed immediately, of course, effusively thankful for the judge’s wisdom and mercy. With Mr. Chance’s magnanimous consent, we settled on a sum consisting of one-quarter of the gold as repayment. Nearly seventeen-hundred pounds. As the remaining sum was not the contracted amount, you and Adam fell immediately into breach of contract with Mr. Rutley.”
Jane’s head spun chaotically. The contract was void? Adam was free of his commitment to Miss Rutley? She impulsively grasped Barlow’s hand.
“Why, sir? Why did Adam forfeit his land after winning the gold?”
His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Because, Miss Hancock, he apparently found something worth far more than land or gold.”
Heat climbed her neck. For her? He had surrendered all for her? Without anything reasonable to say in response, she voiced the first meaningless question that popped into her head.
“How did you two manage to navigate the labyrinth of British justice in less than a week?”
Barlow withdrew his hand from hers and straightened his cravat. “Did I not explain during our first meeting that I am the most effective solicitor in all of London?”
“You did, sir. That, you did.” Her growing smile faded, though, as further realization dawned. The contract was void, to be certain. However, Adam was without his land and income, and possessed no more than a few pounds to carry him forward. And she was still bound for debtor’s prison.
“Tell her the rest,” groused Rutley. “Tell her and be done with this.”
Barlow glared icily at Rutley until the man looked away. Then he smiled at Jane. “As the contract is void, Miss Hancock, the original conditions go into effect. Adam loses his land. You go to debtor’s prison. However, the remaining gold belongs to you and Adam to share. Five-thousand and forty pounds, to be precise.”
Her heart leaped. Five-thousand pounds! Adam’s half might provide him with a fresh start. Her half was not nearly enough to discharge her debt, but delivered a fighting chance. She would not starve after all. With prudent investment, perhaps she might gain her freedom within a decade or so. Might the mill be the vehicle of that investment? Perhaps. She peered at the solicitor.
“In your opinion, Mr. Barlow, is my half of the remaining gold sufficient to support me in debtor’s prison while also preserving the operation of my mill?”
“I’m afra
id not. You’ve nothing left to invest.”
Aunt Hester stepped to Jane’s side, her jaw set in grim determination. “Explain, Simon, before I box your ears.”
He dipped his head apologetically. “Your niece has nothing left to invest, dear Hester, for Adam has already spent the money.”
Jane’s jaw fell slack with incredulity. “Spent it? All of it?”
“Not all.”
“How much then?”
“Forty-eight hundred pounds precisely.”
Her breath caught at the mention of the specific sum. “On what, sir?”
“He settled your debt, Miss Hancock, with two hundred and forty pounds to spare. As a result, the mill remains yours, and you are no longer bound to debtor’s prison. Instead, you are free of debt and free to go.”
She nearly collapsed under the weight of his revelation. Free of debt? Free of prison because of Adam? Given every opportunity to do otherwise, he had sacrificed his legacy to prevent her from spending a single day in confinement. He had relinquished two hundred years of Ashford blood, sweat, and toil to give her a new beginning. Anguish for his loss built within her and pounded the shore of her resolve like a rogue wave.
“Where is he, Mr. Barlow? Where is Adam?”
“Gone. Gone to his estate in Oxfordshire with Mr. Chance to gather what belongings he might claim. Gone to bid his ancestral home farewell.”
She began backing toward the door, drawn by a deep desire to share Adam’s pain. “I must go to him. I must go to him now.”
Barlow merely smiled. “I was hoping you might say that. My coach is on the street and at your service.” He offered his arm to Aunt Hester. “Shall we, my dear?”
“Yes, my brave knight.”
He blushed unabashedly. “One more item of business, Hester.”
He reached into his pocket, retrieved a letter, and tossed it on Rutley’s desk. The man eyed it suspiciously. “What is this, Barlow?”
“A resignation of my services. I can no longer serve you in good conscience. Find another solicitor to perform your dirty deeds, Rutley.”
With that, he swept Hester to the door. Driven by a desperate need to find Adam, Jane flew outside, leaving Mr. Rutley behind for good.
Chapter Thirty-One
No matter how many times Adam encountered crops rotting in a field, the unique scent surprised him anew. It spoke in no uncertain terms of damp, decay, and death. Most folks wrinkled their noses at the odor and hastily vacated the area. Not Adam. As a child of the land, he saw beyond the present. The rotting plants would decompose over the winter, melting into the soil under winter rain, snow, and mud. When spring came, those same dead crops would give of themselves to bring forth new ones. Having witnessed this phenomenon many times, he had developed a great appreciation for bleak endings. Dark finales often paved the road to bright beginnings. As he wandered his fields for the final time, he prayed that this particular ending might hold true to form.
“She’s a fine plot of ground, sir.”
Thomas’s melancholy assessment snapped him from his reverie. “I agree, Thomas. This plot of earth has served my family well for two centuries. I regret only that I am the one to lose it.”
“Seems to me,” said Thomas, “that you are not to blame. Your quarreling ancestors dug the pit. No quantity of good intentions could lift you out of the hole.”
“Perhaps you are right. However, I cannot shake my deep concern over what comes next.”
Thomas cocked his head. “Of finding a new source of income?”
“No.” He shook his head firmly. “Not that. Of what will happen with Jane. What will she do now that she is free? Will she still have a man who is a former enemy and bereft of financial means?”
“Do you regret trading a certain marriage and your land for the unknown, then?”
Adam paused. Did he? He recalled the moment the mad plan had come to him while he perused his great-grandfather’s contract with Thomas’s father. In a flash of insight, he’d known how to break free of Rutley’s clutches, escape the crush of mediocre misery, and open the door to Jane’s affections. He’d known immediately, though, that the plan would cost him everything he had been taught to cherish. Did he, in fact, now regret his actions over the past week? A smile crept across his face, terribly out of place, considering the somber nature of the moment.
“No. I regret my decision not at all. Even if Jane turns me away, I will have achieved the most noble action a man can take. I will have freed myself from a mundane life to reach instead for the spectacular. If my reach falls short, I can live with the knowledge that my courage and character did not.”
Thomas smiled and shook a finger softly while nodding his head. “Then you must have faith, sir. From what little I have learned of your Miss Hancock, her courage and character match yours.”
Adam threw back his head and laughed. “You would not say so if you knew what she did near this very spot.”
Thomas’s eyes went wide as he likely imagined many awful or embarrassing scenarios. “Sir?”
Adam patted his shoulder with affection. “It is not what you think.” He pointed to a nearby scatter of trees. “It was just there where Jane rounded up a herd of goats and drove them into my house.”
“Miss Hancock did that?”
“Indeed, she did.” Adam relayed the story of how Jane had ruined his birthday party. He confessed how impressed he had been even then, and how much amusement the memory had brought him during the two years since. As he finished the telling, he could almost imagine a determined Jane slipping through the darkness with a contingent of goats to infiltrate his house. He could almost imagine how she’d laughed. In fact, he could almost hear her calling to him now.
“Adam! Adam!”
His head snapped up. She was calling! He spun sharply to find Jane hurrying toward him across the ruined ground, slipping and stumbling with her skirt lifted perilously above mud-covered shoes. Without pausing for breath, he lurched toward her at an unsteady pace. As they neared each other, both slowed to a halt, separated by five feet and a chasm of uncertainty.
“Adam,” she said, her face a mask of dismay, “How could you? How could you sacrifice your entire legacy just to free an adversary?”
He instinctively closed the gap and dropped to one knee in the mud before her feet, his head bowed and one hand planted in the soil for support.
“My dearest Jane,” he said, “I surrender. On behalf of House Ashford, I lay my sword at your feet now and for all time. Consider the war between our families ended, and you the victor.”
She gasped. “But why?”
“Why?” He lifted his eyes to lock with hers. “Why? Because I love you, Jane. I have loved you since the first day we met those many years ago. I tried to resist. I tried to please my family by disregarding you, by despising you. But I failed. Your beauty, your wit, your fire—they are too much for my meager defenses. And so, I have no choice but to surrender my house and pledge my devotion to you in whatever way I can.”
…
Jane’s knees nearly buckled from Adam’s declaration. His face grew blurry as tears obstructed her vision. Never had she expected such adoration from anyone, let alone from Adam Ashford, her former enemy.
“But, Adam, no woman is worth what you forfeited.”
He shook his head resolutely. “You are most definitely wrong about that. You are worth the price. You are worth any price. But I wonder…”
“What? Say it.”
He inhaled deeply. “I wonder if you feel the same about me. I wonder if you will have me, destitute as I now am.”
She blinked rapidly as astonishment rattled her senses. The prideful Adam Ashford kneeled before her, questioning his worthiness. He dared to question that he was worth more than a plot of land or a grand house. His vulnerable devotion stirred her soul and loosed the flame she had so
carefully kept in check for years. She seized his collar and lifted him to his feet.
“Oh, Adam. You overcome me. You slay me with your undeserved ardor as surely as if you had lifted your sword against me. The broken pieces of what I once was lie scattered in this ruined field at your feet, at your mercy, in your care. In such a shattered state, only your love might reassemble me. I love you, and I will for all time.”
Without a word, he stepped into her embrace and ran his lips along the side of her neck, softly. Then he straightened. She lifted her face slowly from his shoulder to hover mere inches from his. His lips were moving. He was saying something terribly important. She pushed away the erupting chaos to listen.
“Jane Hancock, my great adversary. My most worthy opponent. My lifelong dream and aspiration. My everlasting love. I could live as a pauper if necessary, surviving on nothing more than the fruits of your affection. However, I would spend every moment of the rest of my life striving to earn that affection, to prove myself worthy of your love, if only you would agree to become my wife.”
There, he did it. He asked for her hand. The man whom she had hated most of her life had just asked for her hand in marriage. Now he stood before her, his face growing red, perhaps from embarrassment, or more likely from the fact that he had ceased to breathe. Only then did she remember that she had not responded to his proposal.
“Yes, my love! A thousand times, yes. My heart is yours, as it was always meant to be.”
He dropped his head to kiss her hands as one might greet a queen and remained frozen there for an alarming number of seconds. Then he gathered her again into an embrace and kissed her thoroughly in the middle of the mud and decaying wheat. When he finally allowed her to collect a breath, she leaned away from him with a smile.
