Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

A canter is a cure for every evil.

—Benjamin Disraeli

May 1901

Velvet Brooks Farm, Lexington, Kentucky

" Y ou asked to see me, Pa?" Veronica Josephine Lyndon breezed into the library of her house at Velvet Brooks Farm. Arranging her riding skirt after sitting in the leather chair pulled up close to Joseph Lyndon's desk, she took in his gray brows and compressed mouth. Why did her father wear such a serious look?

"I did." Pa closed the ledger book where he tracked household and farm expenses. Setting it aside, he folded his hands together on top of the desk. "I wanted to speak with you about your future."

"My future?" She arched her brow.

He nodded. "Yes, your future."

"What's to talk about? I have it all planned out."

Pa cleared his throat. "Yes, well, that's precisely what I wanted to discuss. Your plans."

"What did you want to know?" She hadn't discussed any of them with Pa, but she had dropped a few hints. After graduating from finishing school at twenty-one, she'd mentioned she had no foreseeable plans to marry. During her recent twenty-third birthday dinner, when Grandmother Spencer had asked about her current beaux, she'd said she didn't have a beau or any plans to acquire one, but her grandmother and everyone else in the room had dismissed her reply with a few chuckles. Now she braced herself to defend her wishes to her father.

"Your mother is under the impression you wish to remain single and live out your days at Velvet Brooks." Pa leaned back in his chair.

"Nothing would please me more." Veronica thrived working with their horses, the lifeblood and legacy of the farm.

"That does present a problem. Your mother and I are concerned you won't have anyone to look after you later in life. You do realize, we won't be around forever."

"I know, Pa. I'll manage. I don't need looking after."

"The truth is, everyone needs looking after. We'd like to see you settled into a happy, secure marriage. Besides, we'll need some grandchildren to inherit Velvet Brooks someday." His thin lips spread upward.

Veronica didn't return his smile. Children? One could hardly have children without a husband. Gripping the arms of her chair, she sat up straighter.

"Before you say anything, hear me out. Your mother and I have spoken about this at length. Out of our concern for you, we have been in correspondence with my old university friend, Levi. You remember Leviticus Beckett and his wife, Gloria, and their four children. His eldest son, Edward, has recently graduated from Princeton. He is ready to marry and settle down. We've come to an arrangement regarding the two of you."

Had her parents lost their minds? They hadn't seen the Becketts in years. "Pa, you and Mama can't just marry me off to a perfect stranger." Where was her mother, as a matter of fact? Why had she left Pa to break this news? Probably best not to argue with both of them at the same time. But of all the cockamamie ideas…this had to top them all.

"You've met Edward before. He isn't exactly a stranger."

"I hardly remember that particular visit to New York, let alone him," she protested, releasing a nervous laugh.

"Still, your mother and I want you to have a chance for a happy, solid marriage and a family of your own who will love and protect you in the years to come. To be sure, we never thought for one moment that you would not have accepted any of the proposals from amongst your suitors, but here we are." He released a heavy sigh.

"I'm not marrying anyone, Pa." Veronica tilted her head. "I made up my mind. I don't see how a husband can make me any happier than I am right now."

"You say that because you are well provided for here at Velvet Brooks, but it's not the same as having your own family and a household of your own. In fact, it's all decided. Edward is aboard a train this very moment, traveling here with his father and brother, and with the understanding you will marry him. His train arrives the day after tomorrow. They'll stay at the Phoenix Hotel in Lexington, but much of Edward's time will be spent here, getting to know you better."

"I have no intention of entertaining your guests or getting to know Edward. I'm not interested in marrying anyone, Pa." She'd made up her mind about that years ago, after Henry Sullivan had run off and married her best friend. She would never open her heart to that kind of pain ever again. But Pa didn't need to know her reasons. He only needed to know she had a much better plan, but he rambled on about Edward.

"Nonetheless, it's an excellent match. He is highly sought after, though my understanding is that he hasn't met anyone he is interested in marrying from New York. Furthermore, over the years, I've been able to add a tidy sum to the generous dowry your grandfather set aside for you. But if you don't marry before twenty-five, the majority will be lost to you and split between your sisters' dowries. I'm sure you don't want to see that happen any more than we do."

"Pa, I appreciate what you've done for me, and Grandfather's efforts, too, but I don't need the dowry. You can give it to Delia and Gladdie."

"No. I can't allow that to happen. It would place your entire financial future at the mercy of others. Your mother and I will not stand by and allow you to squander your chance for security and happiness." Pa entrenched his stance with a stern countenance.

She bristled, tilting her chin up, trying to think of something to say to make her father understand she remained firmly in the camp against any marriage. In fact, she could hardly believe her ears. "I didn't know a time constraint existed regarding the dowry, but that aside, it wouldn't change my mind. I have no intention of marrying anyone. Certainly not a man I barely know, and definitely not in an arranged marriage. Where is the love in that? I don't care if he graduated from Cambridge, Yale, and Princeton."

"Don't push your mother and me on this, Veronica. We've made up our minds after watching you turn away every eligible bachelor in Kentucky. You're running out of time and options, running recklessly into a lonely, unhappy future. If anything were to happen and we had to sell Velvet Brooks, you would have nothing left. No income. No husband. No children. No home. And no security in your future at all."

"Pa, I can't marry Edward Beckett. I don't love him, and I'm sure I never will." Veronica shook her head. Her father didn't understand the reason why she would never marry, and she couldn't explain it. Not without wounding her pride. To recount the reasons she'd lost Henry's interest to a peer and bemoan the extent of her broken heart asked too much.

Pa rose from his seat behind the desk. "You'll thank us later. That is all I have to say on the matter."

Arguing with him would obviously lead nowhere. Veronica fled from the library in horror. When she burst into the main hall, she nearly collided with her mother, Eleanor Lyndon.

"Oh, goodness me." Mama stepped back. "Are you all right, Veronica?"

Angry tears pooled in her eyes, blurring her vision. She took a step back, too, stunned. How long had her mother stood outside the library? How long had she known about the arrangement? Why had she left Pa to break the news?

Ready to explode, she didn't dare speak to Mama now. Veronica lifted her riding skirt and ran up the staircase to her room. The life-altering news she'd received from Pa had emotionally shattered her, leaving her in shock with no idea of how to defend herself.

Upstairs, Veronica slammed the door to her bedroom and locked it. She flung herself onto the bed for a good long cry amongst her pillows, allowing them to muffle her sobs and collect her tears. A little while later, she refused to answer her mother's knock or pleading to open the door and speak with her.

"I know you're upset with us right now, my darling daughter, but in time, you'll come to see this is all for the best. Your father and I have given this a great deal of thought and prayer. We'd like you to give Edward a chance." Her mother's gentle voice on the other side of the door reminded her they cared, but they would never understand the reasons for her refusal to marry. She had her own life to live, and it did not look anything like what had made them happy.

She didn't unlock the door for Delia and Gladdie either. Had Mother sent them to do her bidding? They finally went away, leaving her to deal with her dilemma in peace, although anything but peace filled her soul.

Dinner came and went, but she didn't step outside her room. One of the servants, Grace Mitchell, brought a dinner tray upstairs. After knocking a few times, Grace left the meal outside the door. Food? The very last thing on Veronica's mind. No, this was war.

Instead, she alternated between fits of anger and sobbing. She cried, rocked, prayed, and cried some more until she thought she had reached the bottom of her tears. How dare her parents think they could control her life, forcing her into a loveless marriage? Their plan for her future was utterly ridiculous.

Marriage had crossed her mind a few times since her twenty-first birthday, but only briefly. Maybe if Henry hadn't run off with her best friend… But the hurt they had caused ran too deep. Remembering it caused her tears to start all over again.

Through the long night when sleep evaded her, she tried to think of reasons to offer her parents. Why couldn't things remain as they were? Living at Velvet Brooks made her happy. Why did she need to marry? What did she care about the dowry? She didn't want any of it and didn't imagine her parents ever selling the family farm, no matter what they said.

Her eyelids heavy, she finally fell asleep, emotionally drained.

When dawn broke, she prayed again as she dressed for the day, rehearsing words to convince her parents to abandon their disastrous plan. The servants began moving around on both floors, setting the dining room table for breakfast, knocking on bedroom doors to arrange hair and help the Lyndon ladies dress, but Veronica didn't speak much when she opened the door for Grace to style her hair.

Emerging from her room at seven o'clock sharp, she joined her family for the morning meal, thankful when Gladdie poured a cup of steaming coffee and slid it in her direction.

"I hope you are feeling better this morning, Veronica," Mama began, unfolding a linen napkin and placing it across her lap over her gray silk gown. "Did you sleep well?"

Veronica glared at her mother as she stirred cream and sugar into her cup of coffee. Why did she speak as if the sky hadn't fallen yesterday? Indignation filled her heart, but she managed a calm, reasonable, rehearsed reply. "I would like to discuss this plan to marry me off to a perfect stranger. I'm sure I can do more good here, helping with the workload, than I can do anywhere else in the world. I believe my plan is best for all parties concerned. I can help take care of you and Pa as you grow older, and it is not unheard of for ladies to remain single in this day and age."

Mama absorbed her glare, listened to her words, and added sugar to her coffee. She stirred the cup painfully slowly. Then she set the teaspoon aside onto a saucer. "I know you received difficult news yesterday, and you must know how much your father and I sympathize with you, but we really do have your best interests at heart."

Her sisters observed the exchange with helpless but empathetic looks as they ate their breakfast. Pa glanced over the morning newspaper which Martin Everly, their butler, always supplied, his lips pressed into a firm, thin line. He exchanged a knowing look with her mother before taking a bite of his scrambled eggs.

"No, I don't think you do. If you did, you would respect my wishes." Veronica sipped her coffee, smoldering with renewed anger as someone set a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, and a biscuit in front of her. But something told her any words she spoke would ultimately result in futility. Her parents behaved too calmly—too prepared, too united. Still, she had to try. They planned to dispense with her by marrying her off as if she were one of their racehorses.

Mama pinched off a bite of biscuit. "We do respect your wishes, but you must be sensible. Don't you see? Your younger sisters both have beaux. Once they are wed, you'll be considered an old maid, unmarriageable. Marrying Edward Beckett will resolve the issue and offer you the greatest chance of happiness."

"But I don't want to marry Edward…or anyone. I want to live here at Velvet Brooks, ensure its success, and help manage the farm." Veronica stated her case with a calm she hoped matched her mother's. "I don't want anyone to look after me when I could look after you and Pa."

"You can do that much more efficiently with your dowry in place once you are wed," Mama explained.

"But I don't love Edward. I would never marry for anything but love, and I don't care about the dowry. We don't need money to manage the farm. We only need good management of the resources we already have." Veronica carefully avoided delving into the real reason for her refusal. She had to protect her heart at all costs.

Pa folded down his issue of the Lexington Gazette . "I've been reluctant to disrupt your conversation with your mother, but frankly, Veronica, this has gone on long enough. As I said yesterday, our decision is final. This is all for the best in the end. You'll see."

Veronica stabbed some of her eggs with her fork. They'd come 'round to the same place in the discussion as yesterday, and neither of her parents put any stock in her reasoning. They wouldn't even speak about what she offered, other than to imply once she had her dowry, her offer of looking after them and Velvet Brooks stood on more solid ground. Did it all come down to greenbacks, then? She bit her tongue, biding her time about this aspect of the argument.

Martin handed Mama the morning's post. Her mother sifted through the letters and held up an envelope. "Oh, here is the introduction letter from your intended. Leviticus said Edward would send something before they set out on their journey, and it has arrived ahead of them." She handed the letter to Veronica with a pleasant smile, appearing unfazed by their discussion.

Veronica tossed it aside, resisting the urge to release a growl, a harrumph, any sign of her anger.

Mama prattled on, her countenance unaffected. "I'll plan a menu today for the duration of their stay. Something wonderful to welcome them into the family." As she lifted her coffee cup to her lips, she smiled again in Veronica's direction. "I expect you to treat Edward and his family with every kindness, Veronica. This is your chance to shine, to show your future husband all of your grace and poise."

"Mama, you aren't listening to a word I've said. I'm offering to take care of you, Pa, and Velvet Brooks when you grow older. The Becketts will expect me to pack my belongings and move to New York, spending all of my time and attention looking after a man I don't even love. How can I manage the farm from there?" Veronica reached for the butter dish and began slathering some on her biscuit.

"It's true. Lord knows Gladdie and I don't want to be stuck with all of the work," Delia put in as she reached for the cherry preserves.

Bravo, Delia! Veronica glanced at Delia with appreciation, noticing Gladdie nodding in agreement. In response, Pa barely glanced in her direction over the edge of the newspaper, but he turned a page and snapped it to keep the selected page firmly open.

"We have servants and employees to look after us. Love will come in time," Mama replied. "And you can visit us from New York whenever you like. They can even be long visits. You can bring your husband…and my future grandchildren. It will all be wonderful. Trust me. There is nothing more wonderful than holding your first baby in your arms."

Veronica glowered, aghast. Grandchildren? First baby? She hadn't yet agreed to the husband part, let alone New York. Or offspring. "You cannot possibly know love will come in time. Let Delia have my dowry. I'm not even sure I'm the marrying sort, let alone the mothering sort."

"I'll gladly accept her dowry if she doesn't want it," Delia interjected, glancing toward Gladdie before the two of them burst into giggles.

Lord, have mercy! Veronica leveled her narrowed gaze on her sisters. They should be helping her, not jesting about her situation. But at least the dowry would not go entirely to waste. Someone in the family might enjoy it, after all.

"I do not see the humor in your sister losing every chance for true and lasting happiness, girls." Mama shook her head and sighed, then sipped more coffee. When she set the cup down firmly, it clanked into the saucer, and she turned her attention back to Veronica. "You really have no idea how much of your future happiness is at stake, do you?" Veronica had rarely heard her mother use so firm a tone. "Give Edward a chance. He is your only hope at this point. And I simply refuse to hear one more word of this ridiculous refusal."

"Your mother is right," Pa said. "We will not continue this discussion. You will marry Edward. I have staked my word on it. You will not bring dishonor to the family."

Veronica rose, whipping her linen napkin from her lap, tossing it onto her barely touched plate. She stomped her foot, shouting, "No, I will not marry Edward!"

She marched from the dining room into the hall and through the front door, slamming it. At least they might hear the door, since they refused to listen to a word she said. Two slammed doors in less than twenty-four hours. Tears, yelling, arguments…but what choice did they leave her with? All the things she didn't like, truth be told, and moments she'd rather forget.

She headed for the horse barn, unable to face the four walls of her bedroom for another day, chiding herself for failing to make them respect her wishes. She must stick to her guns, no matter how much she despised the slamming of doors, shouting, and stomping. Her parents brought it on themselves, attempting to control her life with their meddling and matchmaking, turning all she held dear upside down.

They cited her future happiness and financial security, but what did they know about what made her happy? Clearly, they didn't understand, but when she refused Edward Beckett, the light of day would dawn.

Entering the barn, she turned away offers of help to saddle Gunpowder Fury from the Velvet Brooks groom, Carter Mitchell. "Thank you, Carter. I'll saddle him myself today."

"Yes, Miss Lyndon." He returned to a stool, wrapping the legs of Calamity June, one of their finest mares.

She had often helped Carter wrap the legs of any horses who exhibited signs of having tender muscles. Who would help him and their other employees keep up with all of the responsibilities at Velvet Brooks if her parents married her off to Edward Beckett?

Veronica spread a blanket over her favorite stallion. She hefted the saddle next. The remedy she sought during times of crisis usually included a good ride to soothe her soul and clear her head. Then she could figure out a plan to avoid Edward during his visit and convince her parents of their erroneous decision.

Yes, riding Gunpowder Fury—the remedy she needed for now. Tightening the saddle strip around his girth, she acknowledged one small glimmer of hope. Maybe Edward didn't want to marry her any more than she wanted to marry him.

After a long ride, she threw herself into various tasks around the horse barn. The staff didn't mind, accustomed as they were to her presence. She cleaned and polished every saddle Velvet Brooks owned. She mucked stalls, helped Carter wrap legs, turned horses out to pasture, and swept the barn's enormous floor. All the while, she formulated a plan to make Edward dislike her.

The next morning, after Pa left to fetch their guests from town, Veronica stuck to her usual routine, exercising several horses. Father's carriage returned from the Lexington hotel first, bringing a gentleman of about the same age as Pa. Leviticus Beckett, Edward's father, she presumed. Only much older than she remembered. From astride Gunpowder Fury on the eastern side of the property, Veronica simmered, watching them go inside the house together. But where were the Beckett sons?

Maybe they'd had a change in plans. Nonetheless, Mama would expect her to greet Mr. Beckett, appear on time for tea in the sitting room, and join them after for the luncheon. She planned to arrive as tardily as possible. She proceeded to finish another hard run on her horse, but not long into the ride, two figures in a fancy motor carriage took a wild, sharp turn onto the lane.

So the Beckett brothers had decided to make an appearance. Worst of all, in one of those noisy modern contraptions! She'd show them. She leaned farther over the mane of her horse. "Yaw!"