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Shunned No More

Page 16

by Christina McKnight


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  Though the evening was growing late, Vi remained behind her desk at Foldger’s Foals. She’d hoped things with the business would change, perhaps even improve as fast as they’d declined. Alas, her financial situation had taken another turn for the worst. She smoothed her hand across the day’s post that had arrived shortly before the evening feeding. Now resting on the cool surface of her desk, the two letters held completely different messages, but both signaled doom.

  She dashed a wayward tear that had escaped without her notice. Tattersalls had written to void their longstanding agreement with Foldger’s Foals. The letter, written in a man’s heavy hand, stated they wished to seek out “more affordable foals” closer to London.

  She pushed the paper out of her sight, uncovering the second letter—this from her father, begging her to reconsider her decision to stay in the country.

  Her head dipped to her hands, propped on the desk. Helplessness coursed through her. Before being shunned by the ton, she never remembered feeling like she’d been set adrift at sea, unable to swim and with neither a paddle nor life-saving device.

  With the way things were progressing, she’d have no other alternative but to travel to London or stay completely idle at her father’s country estate. Neither option suited her in the least.

  Foldger’s Foals had been the premier breeding ranch for almost as long as she’d been in business. Ironic, but she’d never viewed the ton fickle in their opinions when it came to business. Now, it seemed that many had decided to buy elsewhere with little or no explanation. It should not wound her so, but she felt abandoned all over again. As if she was being shunned for a second time.

  Enough!

  She straightened in her seat and squared her shoulders. “I will not fail,” she uttered to the empty room. She, with the help of Connor, would discover the reason for the decline in clients and set things to right. She had no other options available to her.

  An image of Lord Haversham flitted through her mind: His strong arms, his deep laugh, his smile. Had she ever seen him smile or did she only dream of it, a gleam lighting his eyes? Had he thought of her after he left? Most assuredly not. He was now a man about town. No doubt he was currently waltzing at a grand ball dressed in London’s finest.

  She sighed and collected the letter she’d shoved across the desk in her moment of weakness. Tomorrow, she thought to herself. Tomorrow was a new day, and she would figure out the problems facing Foldger’s Foals.

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