The Maiden's Hand

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Сьюзен Виггс

Год написания книги

2018

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“But he didn’t.”

Kit grinned. “You must think like a lawyer. Of course he did. And Oliver is entitled to both compensation and the right to dispose of the estate as he chooses.”

“Oliver? He doesn’t own the estate.”

“For our purposes, and only on paper, he does.”

“Oh.” She disliked the sticky dishonesty of it, yet she saw the merit in the plan. “And naturally Lord Oliver would not choose to confer the estate on Wynter Merrifield.”

“Naturally,” Oliver said. “I would give it to you, my fair Lark.”

“What must we do?” Lark asked, tossing away his glib compliment with a wave of her hand.

“We must take a long walk and discuss this,” Oliver suggested. “Intimately, at great length.”

“Why should we walk outside?”

Oliver cast suspicious glances to and fro. Lark suppressed a smile at his overblown gestures. “No one must hear our plans.”

Kit nodded. “Wynter knows we’re up to something. I’d not like to encounter his friends again.”

Oliver led the way out of the library. Blackrose Priory and its vast grounds seemed to be awaiting the spring, the trees with buds still tucked within themselves, the sere, colorless lawns barren. At the far reaches of the estate, the gardens ran wild, tumbling into the majestic disarray of the forested hills. Lark took her companions to a high walk along the ridge of a rise above the river. The air smelled of cold water and dry reeds.

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