Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

November 1815

London, England

There was nothing more satisfying for Colin Birchall than a good, clean, organized desk. His house was falling apart around him—the rope cordoning off the drawing room was only the latest in temporary measures to ensure no one hurt themselves on one of the many faulty structures in Winterbourne—but he had left his desk tidy. The ability to face a crumbling estate with equanimity and patience was the mark of a good man; the ability to do so with preparation, intentional lists, and methodical planning was the mark of a great one.

Colin strived for greatness.

His estate was falling to ruin. His money was gone. His servants were abandoning him. In the midst of all that, he had to travel through frigid weather to London to attend a summoning by his eccentric great aunt. None of his week had gone according to plan.

Yet, when Colin entered the stuffy office for his Great-aunt Edith’s solicitor, he was pleased to note the tidy desk with neatly arranged piles and no unnecessary knicknacks strewn about. This lawyer was a man who could be taken seriously.

Unlike the woman he worked for.

Mr. Davidson pushed his glasses up his thin nose and looked at Colin and each of his three cousins in turn. Colin suspiciously noted there were only four cousins in attendance—himself included—one from each family: Colin, Richard, Alden, and Rose. While Lady Edith was eccentric by anyone’s standards, she tended to have methods for her madness. Everything with her was a puzzle to be solved. There was something each of these cousins shared, and he would discover what it—ah. They were each…dark haired.

No, that was not enough. Colin’s younger sister was equally dark, but she hadn’t been invited.

He glanced from Alden, who stood at the end of their row of chairs, to Rose, then to Richard. Why had they been chosen to represent their families in this absurd meeting? None of the cousins currently present were much like Colin in temperament, and Colin’s sister was far more similar to Rose in appearance than he was. There was a binding thread for the four cousins seated in this solicitor’s office today. But what …

He snapped his fingers. They were each unmarried . All their siblings who weren’t present were married. Surely that was what linked them.

Mr. Davidson looked at him, his brow raised. Richard shot him a questioning glance .

He hadn’t meant to snap so loudly.

Colin cleared his throat. “Why are we here?” Now that he’d figured out the connection, he wanted to know if he was correct.

“I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad news,” the solicitor said. “Lady Edith is dying.”

Rose gasped, and Alden muttered something under his breath.

Colin’s mind raced. What had being unmarried to do with his aunt’s propensity for dramatics? Surely she was not actually dying. If that was the case, Colin would have expected much more fanfare than this. No, games were certainly afoot.

Unless he had incorrectly surmised why these particular cousins were gathered together and their unmarried state was merely a coincidence.

Mr. Davidson lifted a stack of folded papers from his desk. “I will now pass out a personal letter to each of you explaining the terms of your aunt’s will.”

Her will? Surely he could not be in earnest. A reading of the will before her death was not the proper order of things. This could be nothing other than another of her games.

Mr. Davidson proceeded to hand each of them a folded missive. “Each letter has been tailored to your individual circumstances. You may proceed to open them. I will be here to answer any questions you may have.”

Colin accepted his letter and turned it over in his hands, the calluses on his fingers scraping over the smooth paper. His name was written across the front in his aunt’s shaky, loopy writing, making his stomach twist with niggling uncertainty. She was too saucy and spry to be truly dying…wasn’t she ?

He broke the seal and unfolded the paper.

My dearest Colin,

Mr. Davidson spoke the truth. I am dying. You were never one to believe my wretched tricks, always looking behind my skirts for the missing ha’penny or double counting my cards at whist. I will admit that you’ve caught me cheating a time or two, but this time there is no deception. The doctor has told me to put my affairs in order, so I am being obedient—perhaps for the first time ever.

If you were forced to guess what my greatest achievement was in my long life, I imagine you would believe it to be my husband’s fortune.

Colin dipped his head to the side, conceding. He certainly knew she had enjoyed spending her merchant husband’s money.

You are wrong, my boy. Dear Mr. Walker is my crowning achievement—not his money. The happiness and joy he brought to my life is unmatched, and I promise you I have only been able to live as wholly and as freely as I have because of the good man at my side.

As you know, Mr. Walker awaits me in Heaven. As I have no children to leave my fortune to, I’ve decided to use my remaining money for good. I want you to have the same joy and contentment I’ve found in my life, so I am leaving you twenty thousand pounds?—

Colin choked, coughing on his own spit. Twenty thousand pounds? It was a veritable fortune. Where was the puzzle? The trick to be solved? She would not do something so outrageous without an equally perplexing riddle, surely. His eyes greedily sought the remainder of the sentence.

—on the condition that you are married before Twelfth Night of the year of our Lord 1815. I do not wish for you to find the most suitable match and marry for money, Colin. I am certain you already began to make a list of eligible women who would agree to the scheme the moment you learned of it, but this marriage must be for love. If not right away, then find someone you can grow to love.

I’ve developed a list of qualifications I think will lead you to such a match.

“Oh, good grief,” he muttered before continuing to read. If Lady Edith was responsible for choosing Colin’s wife, the woman was bound to be the most ridiculous creature imaginable.

To receive the inheritance by Twelfth Night, you must marry a woman who makes you laugh. Someone I would approve of. Someone with a kind heart, a good deal of patience—she must be, if she is to put up with your forever straightening things—and a healthy dose of charity. You know my love of puzzles—I want your wife to deliver a good riddle.

She is out there, Colin. Find her and the money will be yours to do with what you wish. If you’d like to repair your father’s dreadful estate, do so. If you’d like to purchase a different one, that is your choice. I care not what you do with the money so long as you marry a woman exactly as I’ve outlined. I will visit shortly so I might meet this paragon firsthand .

All my love,

Aunt Edith

Colin lowered the paper and scoffed. Lady Edith had blown past eccentricity with this scheme, delivering pure madness instead. How the devil was he supposed to find a woman who fit those parameters and convince her to marry him, all before Twelfth Night? That was less than two months away.

To say nothing of the list of qualifications. How would a good laugh or a knack for telling riddles give him a steady partner? Kind, charitable, patient, and comical ? It was a tall order, mostly because there weren’t many people who could make him laugh. Unlike Aunt’s predictions, there were currently no women on his list. No prospects floated to mind.

Alden stalked toward the door, casting them a farewell nod. “I wish you luck, but I want nothing to do with this ruse.”

Colin was startled to awareness by the closing door at Alden’s back. He had a choice. Lady Edith was not entitled to direct his life for him. But twenty thousand pounds ! With that fortune, he could repair the entirety of his estate, hire back the servants who had left, and replace his old, rickety carriage. He felt a twinge in his back as though it recalled the rough state of travel he’d endured to reach London. How glorious it would be to ride in something well-sprung! But more than a new carriage, Colin could provide for his mother, allowing his sister to focus on her husband and young family.

Rose searched his eyes. “Colin? ”

He let out a slow exhale, opting for the truth. “It’s a lot of money. And we all know I need it. I just don’t know.”

Marriages of convenience were not unheard of. But this? Did the conditions set by Lady Edith turn Colin into a fortune-seeker, or was he merely embracing an opportunity to change his life?

Rose stood, speaking to Mr. Davidson. She bopped Richard and Colin each on the head on her way out. Colin shot Richard a look, which was returned.

“Do you have any questions?” Mr. Davidson asked, looking a little harassed. The man likely appreciated order, and this situation was far from smooth.

Colin pushed to his feet. “No, I thank you.” He nodded to Richard and turned to leave. If he was going to find a woman who fit these parameters and prove to Lady Edith he loved her in a matter of weeks, he needed to start working. He climbed into his drafty carriage, then pulled his small notebook and pencil from his pocket.

He had hours ahead of him on the return journey to Winterbourne Park, just outside of Bath, and an entire half of a notebook at his disposal. It was time for one of his favorite pastimes: Colin needed to create a series of lists.

No list, however impeccably designed, could form a woman out of thin air. Colin should know. He’d written an extensive amount of lists over his twenty-eight years, but it was his hard work that completed his tasks, not the magic of writing them down.

Despite spending the duration of his ride home from London considering the women he knew who could possibly be persuaded to marry him, he could not settle his mind on a single person who embodied all the things his aunt required in his wife.

Miss Fairfax was known to smile and laugh overly much, but she was not what he would consider kind or charitable. He’d seen her turn her nose up at one too many people.

Miss Donnelly might be considered charitable, but she was quieter than a mouse.

There was always the Allen family. He did not know them well, but they had three daughters of marrying age, he believed. Perhaps one of them embodied kindness, charity, and humor. Though, given the sullen nature of their mother’s face when he saw them at church on Sundays, he very much doubted it.

Colin leaned his head back, which he quickly discovered to be a mistake. The wheel hit a rut and lurched him violently in his seat, banging his head against the carriage wall. He leaned forward, applying pressure to the bruised area on his scalp and scowling. He was a simple man with simple aspirations, comfort being high on his list of priorities. Currently, nothing about his life was very comfortable, but with Lady Edith’s fortune, all that could change.

Not just for him, but for his family as well. His mother was cramped in Honora’s house out in Devonshire. He would like to make it possible for her to return to live with him again.

He looked through the window and watched the tips of Winterbourne come into view. The house was formed of the same light honey-colored stone that had built most of Bath and the surrounding villages. It was of middling size, not so large as to be unruly, but grand enough in its own right. The front door was perfectly centered above a small, rising staircase, the windows fanning out evenly in both directions in a pleasing, balanced facade. The home was perfect in its layout, but the bones of the house needed work. Along with the roof, the left side of the split staircase, the drawing room, and the servants’ quarters.

Perhaps it was time to attend some events in Bath and see if he could find a bride. There must be someone in Somerset who fit Lady Edith’s list and was interested in coming to a matrimonial arrangement.

She existed. Colin only needed to find her.