Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The four girls, well hidden behind the shrubbery on the far side of the driveway that faced Ashby Hall, had a fine view of the elegant visitor although they could hear nothing that was said between him and their father.

"Who is he, do you think?" wondered Bliss Morgan, tossing her blond hair back from her face as she spoke.

"He is most divinely handsome even if he is old," noted her identical twin sister. Blythe's daffodil-colored hair seemed always perfectly coiffed.

"Maybe he's a suitor come for one of us," said Delight Morgan in a hopeful tone. Her deep blue eyes, so like their father's, sparkled with eager anticipation.

"Ohh, Dee, don't be so foolish!" Bliss snapped at the younger girl irritably, causing her face to fall. "Look at the man! His clothes are of the very best materials, and that gold chain around his neck is worth enough to dower us all quite respectably. None of us has so much as a dried pea for a portion. Without a dowry we've little hope of making any kind of a decent marriage. We'll be lucky if we end up as farmers' wives."

"Aye," echoed her twin mournfully. "We're all doomed to spinsterhood or worse. Not even the church will have us."

"Do you really want to go to the church, Blythe?" drawled the eldest of them in an amused tone, more than any aware of her sister's worldly penchants.

"You know I don't, Blaze! I want to be married and have children," replied Blythe somewhat indignantly.

"What you mean is that you want to be wed to a rich man, little sister," said Blaze, her tone somewhat cynical.

"It is just as easy to love a rich man as a poor one," Bliss pointed out instantly, defending her sibling. "We are poor, and I do not like it at all. I think I should enjoy being rich."

"There is little chance of that," Blaze retorted with a rueful laugh. "Look at us, sisters! Look at us in our linen skirts that are too short for us now, and our way-too-tight bodices. When did any of us ever have something new to wear?" She sighed almost bitterly.

"Delight's bodice isn't too tight," snipped Bliss, "but then she's still a baby yet and not ready for a suitor even if one did come along."

"Old Ada says my womanhood is close upon me," Delight hissed spiritedly at her elder.

"The old woman always knows too," Blythe said grudgingly. "So then there are four of us ready for marriage. To what purpose? Ahh, how sad to have naught!"

"We have each other," Blaze replied, recovering from her bout of self-pity first.

The four pairs of eyes met. Then Bliss smiled a smile that transformed her thin little face into an extremely beautiful face.

"Aye, we have each other, 'tis true, Blaze, and what would we do without us?" She smiled at her sisters, saying thoughtfully, "I should still like to know, however, just who the gentleman is. My curiosity is burning to learn why such a distinguished fellow would pay our father a call."

"There's time to learn all you need to know later," said Blaze, "but right now there's a late cherry tree I've found on the edge of the orchards that's full with sweet cherries that can be ours for the picking. We'd best hurry before the birds get them all, little sisters!" She turned and started off. The three younger girls followed in her wake.

The Morgan sisters had learned the lessons of frugality early in life. Poverty had taught them that nothing was to be wasted. When they finally returned to their home in late afternoon their willow baskets were filled to overflowing with the cherries that Blaze had so fortunately found for them. Hurrying to the kitchens, they put aprons on over their gowns, washed the fruit carefully in the worn stone sinks, and then set about pitting them, putting aside any bruised cherries to stew for their supper. When seven-year-old Vanora wandered into the kitchens she was put to work pounding a small sugar loaf to a fine powder.

"Let's candy some of the cherries," suggested Delight. "They always taste especially good just before Lent begins."

Blaze nodded in agreement, and smiling, the older three put some of the sweet fruit aside. The rest was equally divided. One half to go into the syrup pot, where it would be boiled down into a sweet thick syrup. The remainder of the cherries would be used for jelly.

"Stop stuffing your face with our cherries, Vanora, or I shall smack you," Bliss threatened as she caught the younger child in the act.

Vanora's sharp little face was covered with the evidence of her crime. Not the least intimidated by her elder sibling, she unwisely stuck out her pink tongue at Bliss, who immediately retaliated, reaching out to pull the child's hair. Vanora howled with outrage, her earsplitting shrieks setting the maidservants agog and bringing her mother running. Vanora sobbed noisily, more outraged than hurt. She looked slyly from beneath her wet eyelashes to see what effect her outrageous behavior was having upon the others as Lady Morgan demanded to know why Vanora was carrying on so.

Vanora hiccuped dramatically, but in the moment in which she drew breath preparatory to leveling an accusation at Bliss, Blaze spoke up.

"She has pounded her finger instead of the sugar loaf, Mama." Blaze put an apparently loving arm about her younger sister's narrow little shoulders and squeezed her hard. "Do stop raging, Vanora sweeting. I know it hurts, for many a time I have pounded my fingers too."

Vanora sobbed. Looking up into her eldest sister's face, she saw the stern warning in Blaze's eyes. Immediately she ceased her wailing. Blaze was her favorite sister, but Vanora knew the danger of getting on her bad side.

"There now," said Blaze sweetly, "that's better. Return to your task, Vanora, for without the sugar we shall not be able to preserve these luscious cherries. Yours is the most important task." With a final sniffle Vanora obeyed. Turning to her mother, Blaze said, "I found a late bloomer in the orchards. We managed to get to the cherries before the birds did, Mama. I've never known a cherry to bloom so late. It's a good month out of season."

"Nature is not always predictable," replied Lady Morgan. "How fortunate, Blaze, that you found the tree, and how good of you to so quickly rally your sisters to pick the fruit, but, dearest child, I have news. Wonderful news!"

"Does it have to do with that gorgeous man who was speaking with our father outside the house earlier?" Delight burst out.

"You saw Lord Wyndham then?" her mother asked.

"We were all hiding behind the hedge, Mama. Since you didn't call us, we did not think you wanted us, and went on to the orchard," said Delight truthfully.

Lady Morgan smiled at her fourth daughter. Delight was quite incapable of telling an untruth. Blaze she had known to tell white lies to protect the feelings of others. As for her first set of twins, both Bliss and Blythe lied so easily that they often believed what they said to be truth, for there was no real malice in either of them.

"Lord Edmund Wyndham is the Earl of Langford," Lady Morgan continued. "He was widowed over a year ago, and is without children. He has chosen Blaze to be his next wife. Is that not incredible news, my daughters?"

"I told you so! I told you so!" Delight danced around the kitchens to the amusement of the cook and the maidservants.

Rosemary Morgan smiled, then looked anxiously toward her eldest child. Blaze appeared stunned.

"Holy Blessed Mother! An earl! You are to marry an earl, Blaze!" gasped Bliss enviously. "He's even handsome!"

"You are going to be a countess," Blythe squealed excitedly, clapping her hands. "Lady Mary Blaze Wyndham, the Countess of Langford! Ohhh, why are you so lucky?!"

"Lucky?" Blaze whispered. "Am I lucky?" She drew a deep breath. Her voice was stronger now as, facing her mother, she demanded, "Why does this man want to marry with me? How can I marry anyone? You have fretted often enough, Mama, that there is no dowry for us." Blaze's violet-blue eyes were filled with unspoken questions.

The kitchens had grown deathly still, only the crackle of the flames in the fireplaces breaking the silence. Looking about her, Lady Morgan saw the avid curiosity of her servants, and clamped her lips in a thin disapproving line. There was nothing wrong with them knowing that Blaze was to wed, but the details were not their business.

"Is there no work to be done here?" she asked sternly, looking at the cook and her helpers. "I smell something burning. Have we so much in this household that we can afford to waste it? Girls, get back to your cherries! Blaze, you are to come with me!" Lady Morgan swept regally from the kitchens, her eldest daughter quickly following.

They did not stop in the Great Hall, for Rosemary Morgan wanted no gossiping servants to overhear what she was going to tell her daughter. The details were not even Blaze's business, though she would tell the troublesome chit. It was parents' duty to arrange suitable matches for their children. Even despite their poverty, kind providence had this day provided them with more than enough good fortune for all of the girls. She led her eldest child to the privacy of the bedchamber she shared with her husband. Together they sat upon the edge of the great bed where Blaze and all her siblings had been conceived.

Rosemary Morgan took her daughter's face into her hands and stared at Blaze a long moment before releasing her. The girl was lovely, of that there was no doubt. "You are a very lucky girl," she began, "and you will make a memorable Countess of Langford if you are clever."

"Why me?" demanded Blaze. "How can you possibly pay him a dowry of any kind, let alone the kind of dowry it must take to marry an earl?"

"He will have you without a dowry," Lady Morgan replied.

"Why?" The word was sharp. The tone suspicious.

"Edmund Wyndham was married for eighteen years to a woman who, like our poor Queen Catherine, could not produce a child. At least the king has our Princess Mary, but the Earl of Langford's only child died shortly after its birth. A birth which killed its mother. He is a wealthy man, Blaze, but he wants children. He already has an heir in the person of his nephew, but he wants his own son. You surely understand that.

"Somewhere, he did not say where, he learned of our family. Of the fact that all my children are living. That they are strong and healthy. Even knowing that we could not afford a dowry, he came to us, and offered to take you for his wife without one. He believes that you can produce healthy children for him even as I have produced them for your father."

"So the great earl comes to Ashby to buy himself a blooded brood mare, does he? I will not marry him, Mother! I may be poor, but I have my pride. I should sooner be condemned to spinsterhood! How dare this man think that he can buy me? What arrogance!"

"Nay, Blaze, he is not arrogant! He came as a supplicant, and he treated your father with elegance and dignity. His coming is like a miracle. It is your duty as a child of this family to accept gratefully the wonderful opportunity that has been offered you. Do you not see how fortunate you are?"

"I do not see, Mama. Let this earl marry one of the others. Both Blythe and Bliss would kill for such an opportunity," Blaze said scornfully.

"You are the eldest," stressed her mother. "It is fitting that you be matched first. Besides, Blythe and Bliss are a full year younger than you are. The earl is a mature man, and you are the perfect age both to wed him and to begin bearing his children."

"No!" said Blaze stubbornly.

Lady Morgan drew a deep breath to still her rising temper. The girl is impossible, she thought. I certainly named her well. "You are not the only one involved in this, Blaze," she told her difficult daughter. "As part of your marriage settlement the earl has agreed to respectably dower your sisters so that they too may find good husbands."

"Then I am to be a sacrificial lamb!" Blaze burst out angrily.

Lady Morgan's temper could no longer be contained, and quickly spilled over. "Blaze," she said, standing up and placing harsh hands upon her daughter's slender shoulders, "you will go to the chapel at once! Pray to the Blessed Mother for her forgiveness. Your sin of selfishness, pride, and disobedience to parental will I will not tolerate! May Our Lady's good, kind heart along with her prayers help cleanse you of these unruly thoughts. Hopefully you will realize how fortunate you are to have been chosen to wed Lord Wyndham. Mayhap you will even allow yourself to consider your younger sisters. To appreciate the fact that their futures rest, may God have mercy on us all, in your two selfish hands!"

"Ohh, that is unfair of you, Mama! To put the responsibility of my sisters' welfare upon me, and me alone!" Blaze cried defiantly.

"I will not argue further with you, daughter," said Lady Morgan. "Go to the chapel this minute!"

Blaze ran from the room, her heart pounding with her anger and her frustration. Deliberately ignoring her mother's orders, she hurried back to the kitchens, stopping halfway down the narrow stone steps to look upon her sisters. Bliss and Blythe were busily overseeing the others, for Larke and Linnette had joined them. The elder set of twins were so beautiful, Blaze thought sadly. It was not right that they be condemned to living their lives here at Ashby without husbands and children of their own. They had only a few years left in which to find husbands. Some would have claimed they were already past their prime. Blaze could not remember ever seeing anyone who could match her sisters' beauty. They were identical in features but for a tiny beauty mark. On Bliss the dainty mark was located just above the left corner of her mouth, but on Blythe it was above the right corner. Each had pale daffodil-blond hair and sapphire-blue eyes. Their faces, like their eldest sister's, were heart-shaped with slender little turned-up noses and generous mouths. Their pleasingly curved eyebrows and long sweeping eyelashes were dark enough to show against their fair skins, and did not need the artifice of charcoal. Theirs was a delicate beauty, yet their rosy cheeks bespoke of good health that could not be denied.

The only other blond amongst their siblings was Vanora, whose hair had a silvery gilt look to it. With her dark blue eyes, which in certain light seemed almost black, the little girl, despite a face still round with baby fat, promised to one day be a great beauty. So did their littlest sister, Glenna, with her chestnut-red hair and their mother's gray-blue eyes.

The rest of the Morgan children were dark-haired. Glenna's twin brother, Gavin, was his father's image with his blue eyes and dark chestnut-brown hair. Winsome Delight with identical coloring. The second set of twins, Lark and Linnette, with their dark brown hair and violet-blue eyes so like her own. What future did any of them have without gold, and how could their father provide it with his sheep destroyed? He had never been able to recover financially from that second destruction of his flocks.

With a silent sigh Blaze retraced her steps back up the kitchen stairs to the main floor of the house. Moving with almost reluctant feet, she entered the family's little chapel. Kneeling at her own little prie-dieu, she gazed up at the statue of Saint Mary, and felt her conscience prick sharply at her pride. The sweet and patient face of the stone saint seemed to reproach her for her rebellious thoughts.

What is wrong with you?demanded her conscience. An attractive and wealthy man wishes to wed with you. Why do you behave so wickedly?

Because I want to be loved for me, myself,answered her pride. This man wants me because I can be a healthy brood mare and give him sons. What does he care of me? He did not even stay long enough to greet me!

What nonsense! returnedher conscience. There is but one reason for the sacrament of marriage. You have been taught it. The purpose of marriage is to have children.

I would be loved!her pride cried.

Love, said her conscience, will come later as you get to know one another. Love, and respect.

I must be loved,her pride whimpered.

Your parents love one another,her conscience reminded her. Why should it be any different for you?

My parents knew one another before their marriage,her pride reminded her conscience.

An unusual situation,her conscience retorted. Marriages are arranged by parents in their offspring's best interests. Your mother is right! You are incredibly fortunate that this man is willing to have you without a dowry, and what of the sisters you profess to love? Are they not entitled to some measure of happiness? This man has generously offered to dower them so they, too, may find husbands. Are these the actions of a wicked man? Your parents are content. Why can you not be?

"But where is the love?" Blaze whispered to herself.

It will come, said her conscience. It is bound to come. You will find love, but more important, you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you have, by humbling your overproud spirit and being a good Christian daughter, helped your seven sisters to their own happiness. How can you refuse the earl's suit?

"I cannot," Blaze said softly, a tear of self-pity rolling down her face. "Oh, Blessed Mother of Christ, forgive me my disobedience. Help me to be more thoughtful of others," she prayed. A hand dropped upon her shoulder. Startled, Blaze looked up to see her father. Hastily crossing herself, she arose. "Oh, Papa, I have made Mama very angry," she confessed, flinging herself into his arms.

Robert Morgan's arms enfolded his eldest child against him. "I know," he said gravely, thanking heaven that she could not see the laughter in his eyes. Blaze had never been the easiest of his children. She required a special touch. His wonderful Rosemary! The best of mothers, and so good with all the others, yet she could never quite understand that Blaze needed more than the others. "Your mother tells me that you have refused to accept our decision in this matter of a husband for you. Is this so?"

"I will marry the earl, Papa," Blaze said softly. "How can I scorn such a generous offer?"

"You cannot," answered Lord Morgan quietly. He set her back so they might look at one another. "You must trust me in this, Blaze, as you have always trusted me. Lord Wyndham is more than suitable. If the truth were spoken, my dearest, it would say that you are marrying up, for indeed you are. I had not met the man before today, but I have never heard ill spoken of him. His manner is firm and kindly. It is obvious that he loved his first wife despite her inability to give him children, and that he truly mourned her death. I believe he will love you too, Blaze. I believe that you will learn to love him. He will be a good husband. His generosity to you, not to mention to your sisters, speaks well of him. Not only will the dowries he is providing for your sisters aid them in finding husbands, but his connection to them by your marriage will aid us even more. Can you be content to have faith in my decision, my child?"

Blaze nodded. "I did not mean to be so difficult, Papa, it is just that I never thought . . . never expected that I should be wed to so great a lord. I believed if I wed at all it would be to some younger son with no more than I, if that. Is the earl's home very far from Ashby?"

"RiversEdge is approximately a half-day's ride from Ashby unless one goes directly across the fields, which the earl did today. His sister was celebrating her birthday, and he wished to be there. It is this sister whose eldest son is the earl's current heir."

"They cannot be happy that the earl is remarrying," said Blaze wisely.

"It is not their decision," replied Lord Morgan, and taking his daughter's hand, he led her from the chapel. Together they walked down the corridor into the Great Hall of Ashby where Robert Morgan drew Blaze down next to him onto a settle by the fireplace. "The Langford earldom goes back to King Henry V, my child. The first earl saved that king's life at the Battle of Agincourt, and was rewarded with a greater title than he already possessed. He was only sixteen at the time. The Wyndhams are long-lived. Lord Edmund's grandfather lived to be seventy-five years of age, and his father was past seventy when he perished in an epidemic."

"The earl was his father's only son?" Blaze inquired.

"Surviving son, my dear, and only offspring of the second earl's third wife. The family seems to have been racked with difficulties in the matter of producing a strong male line. Now in his thirties and without a direct heir, the earl is very anxious. I'm sure you can see that. As you are an intelligent girl, Blaze, I am equally certain that you understand the earl's position."

"He might have at least stayed long enough to meet me," she answered him irritably.

Lord Morgan smiled at his daughter's annoyance. Although he understood why the earl had departed once an arrangement was struck between them, he also understood why Blaze felt slighted. "The earl wanted to stay, but he had planned an entertainment in his sister's honor. They are close despite the disparity in their ages. I know that loving your own sisters as you do, you can understand Lord Wyndham's motives."

"Mmmmm," Blaze considered, and her father laughed indulgently, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. She looked up at him. "What is he like?" she demanded. "Did he leave me no miniature? Did you give him one? Is he content to marry some faceless female? Does he even care?"

"He did leave the choice of a bride to your mother and me, his one proviso being that you didn't squint," chuckled Lord Morgan.

"Does he?" She bristled.

"No, Blaze, he does not. He is very well-favored. Tall and fair-skinned with dark brown hair and fine brown-gold eyes. You will find him as pleasant to look upon as he will find you, my dear."

"When are we to be married, Papa?"

"The thirtieth of September," he replied.

"So soon? I had thought I should have at least until.next spring!" she said.

"The first banns will be cried this Sunday, Blaze."

"It is barely two months, Papa!"

"The earl has been widowed over a year, my child. He wants a wife now, not several months hence," Lord Morgan said.

"There is too much to do, Papa! It cannot be done in such a short time!"

"What is there to do?" he questioned her.

"I have no clothing that would be suitable for a bride, let alone a Countess of Langford! Even if Mama and my sisters had the fabrics, we could not sew enough for my trousseau in such a short time."

"Your trousseau is being made at RiversEdge, Blaze. Everything, including your wedding gown, will be provided for you. The earl has promised to send some of these things ahead of time so you will not be embarrassed before his family when you arrive at your new home."

"My dower chest! It is but half-filled, Papa! How can I arrive at RiversEdge with an empty dower chest?"

"We will take linens from your sisters' chests," said Lady Morgan, entering the hall to join her husband and eldest child.

"Indeed our two chests alone are filled to overflowing," said Bliss, who with her twin had followed their mother. "You sew much too slowly, Blaze. If you had another five years you could not fill your dower chest."

"But what you have done is beautiful," Blythe said in an effort to soften her twin's sharp words, but Blaze was used to Bliss and took no offense.

"Blythe and I will embroider the B and the E upon the bed linens," said Bliss. "We shall intertwine them within a heart."

"I will help," replied Blaze.

"No!" cried Bliss. "You are slower than cold honey, and your pokiness will only drive me to madness. We can have them done in a trice."

"But if you empty your chests to fill mine, what will you do?" Blaze worried.

"Do not fret, sister," answered Blythe. "We need not empty our dower chests to fill yours. We shall this winter easily replenish what we give. It rather pleases me to think that a little bit of us will go with you to your new home."

Blaze arose and hugged her younger sibling. "I like the idea that a little bit of you will be with me too. I suddenly realize that I am going to be alone for the very first time in my life."

"Alone?" Bliss scoffed. "You are to be the mistress of a great house, sister! You will have a husband, and if you do your duty by him, you will quickly have a houseful of children. Can you call yourself alone amid the bevy of servants and retainers you are certain to have? Gracious, Blaze, you are a strange girl."

Blaze laughed at her sharp-tongued sister. "I am not certain that I shall know how to handle such a ‘bevy'," she teased, and then she grew serious. "It is my family I shall miss, Bliss, for though we be poor in worldly goods, we are rich in our love for one another."

"I should sooner be rich in more practical ways," grumbled Bliss with total candor.

"Then once I am settled as Lord Wyndham's wife I shall have to see what I can do to provide you with a suitable husband. Suitable," she amended, "meaning rich!"

"And for Blythe also," Bliss said, protective as always of her twin.

"For Blythe also," Blaze agreed.

"It can be no idle promise that you make, my dear," said Lady Morgan. "Your sisters will indeed need your help and influence in finding husbands. As each of them weds, they in turn will help those remaining. This miracle of a match that has happened so suddenly to you is the answer to all of our prayers. The Earl of Langford is a most kind and generous man. If you make but the slightest effort to please him, you will be, I know, the happiest of women. He has sworn to us that you will be treated like a queen. When you give him an heir, Blaze, I suspect there is nothing within his power that cannot be yours." She looked nervously at her daughter, wondering if the rebellion Blaze had exhibited earlier was still upon her.

Knowing that her mother needed the reassurance, Blaze said dutifully, "I shall indeed endeavor to be a good wife to the earl, Mama, and as I love children, I want my own every bit as eagerly as does Lord Wyndham."

Lady Morgan looked relieved. "Oh, my dear," she said, "I knew if you but thought things through you would see the wisdom of our decision." Hugging her daughter, she finished somewhat tearily, "I am so happy for you!"

"Madam," protested her husband, "you will have this entire household of females in hysterics quite shortly if I do not remove our eldest from your sphere of influence. Run upstairs, Blaze, and change into your riding skirt. There are more practical things a good chatelaine should know. As your father, I feel it is my duty to present the male side of the coin. Hurry now!"

Gratefully Blaze escaped the Great Hall of Ashby, her mother, and her sisters. She sped up the stairs to the small room she shared with Bliss and Blythe. Quickly she removed her everyday skirt and bodice, replacing them with a clean white shirt and a somewhat worn but sturdy dark velvet riding skirt. Whatever the skirt's color had once been, the material had faded long since into an undistinguishable hue. From a corner she drew out her riding boots and pulled them on, wincing at the fact that they pinched her toes, which were now longer than when the boots had been made five years ago. Still, they had a comfortable familiarity about them. As she stood, however, it suddenly dawned on her that Lord Wyndham would probably have new boots made for her. New boots, and a riding skirt of deep blue velvet with a matching bodice, and a hat with a white plume! For a moment she closed her eyes, envisioning herself in such finery, and decided that she liked the picture. There were certain advantages to marriage with a wealthy man that she had not considered. How Bliss would chide her for that oversight.

She hurried back down the staircase, out the front door to where her father was already mounted waiting. A stableboy boosted her into her own saddle, and father and daughter moved off from the house at a leisurely pace. They rode in silence for a time, but once they gained the narrow path across the estate through the fields, Lord Morgan asked his daughter, "How do you really feel about this marriage, Blaze?"

"Would my feelings really make a difference, Papa? I must marry, must I not? And is not this match indeed a miracle as Mama says?"

"If I believed that marriage to Lord Wyndham were a bad thing for you, Blaze, I should not have agreed to the earl's proposal. It is true that you must marry, and that this match is indeed an incredible piece of good fortune for us all. I would help you come to terms with yourself, however, my daughter. I do want you to be happy."

"I am frightened," said Blaze, "but of what, I am not certain. I hate the thought of leaving Ashby. Yet, as Bliss reminds me, I am to be mistress of a great house. I cannot help but wonder if it is as beautiful as here. Whether I will grow to love it. What if I do not? I do no know this man I am to marry. He does not know me either. What if we do not like each other? I understand his reasons for wanting another wife, yet if those are his only reasons, can he learn to care for me, and I him? It is all very difficult and confusing, Papa.

"One moment I am excited, for I never aspired to such a match. Indeed I fully expected to end up with Squire Greene's younger son if they would have a dowerless girl. I suspected in my case that they might, for the squire is an ambitious man. I could see him weighing the thought of sharing grandchildren with a baron of the realm each time our families met." She chuckled throatily, and Robert Morgan joined her laughter.

"Yet in another moment," Blaze continued, "there is a part of me, Papa, that resents the Earl of Langford's arrogance in arriving here with scant notice to demand one of your fertile daughters to wive."

Robert Morgan nodded his understanding of his daughter's feelings, then said, "He meant no disrespect, Blaze. Of that I am certain. Wealthy and powerful men look at these things differently. They come to the point quickly with little shilly-shallying. Time for them is a commodity to be husbanded as carefully as their gold. Lord Wyndham knew our position. He knew that as the father of eight daughters I would want to wed them to this family's best advantage. He also knew that we had little if any financial wherewithal. The advantage was really his, Blaze. Yet at no time did he make me feel a beggar at his gates. If there is any of the arrogance in him that you accuse him of, I have not seen it."

"How old is he, Papa?"

"He will be thirty-five in August," came the reply.

"That is very old, Papa."

Robert Morgan did not know whether he felt like laughing or weeping at his eldest child's remark. He was but forty. From Blaze's standpoint, however, he realized that thirty-five must look ancient. She would be sixteen on the last day of November. Still, such disparity in ages between a man and his wife was not unusual. Especially as women were apt to die younger due to the rigors of childbirth, and men were quite likely to remarry. A man, particularly a childless man or one with only daughters, would want a fecund female, not an older woman with little chance of birthing a son.

A small cough from his daughter reminded him that she needed further reassurance.

"Lord Wyndham is quite in his prime, Blaze. I expect that you will find him a vigorous lover." He glanced over at her, and saw that his words had brought a deep blush to her cheeks. He chuckled wickedly.

"Papa!" she scolded him, and kicked her mount into a canter.

For a moment he watched her go, the sky-blue ribbon that held her lovely golden-brown hair falling away, and her tresses streaming out in the summer's breeze. Lord Wyndham was going to be very surprised to learn that he had gotten himself quite a bargain in Blaze Morgan. Perhaps Rosemary was correct when she said that their daughters' beauty must count for something. For a moment Robert Morgan's eyes narrowed in thought. Blaze's marriage. Her new position. The dowries for his other girls. All would enable him to rebuild Ashby, even improve it. The alliances he would contract for his daughters could help him to obtain an heiress for Gavin. He was going to be very careful in the matches he made. Now he could afford to be choosy.

"Papa!" Blaze had stopped her headlong flight and was now calling him.

Robert Morgan waved his hand at her and grinned. "I am coming, Blaze," he shouted. "I will race you to the lake!" Kicking his stallion into a gallop, he raced after his daughter, who, hearing his words, had already sent her own horse into flight.