The Duke had come home the next morning from his disappointing meeting with Mr. Campbell in a foul mood. Arnold had stayed at the pub and drunk himself into a stupor. He had to be escorted out of the pub when it closed, and he wandered the streets until he remembered where he had quartered his horse. He had finally ridden home at dawn.

Back at the house, he was frustrated, he felt impotent, and he raged at what he perceived as a universe set against him. He fell asleep again at his desk and had finally awoken at mid-morning. He limped through the house to Percy’s rooms and threw open the door to find Percy lounging in a window seat reading.

“Damn you boy, why are you not out doing something useful? You should be visiting Miss Hoskins? You must strike while you can. Within days… hours… swarms of young men are going to swoop down and ply her with kind words, flattery, and sweep her off her feet with offers of marriage. And where will you be?—reading some damn trashy novel.”

Percy stood up from the window seat. “I know that Miss Anna already has feelings for me, so I feel confident she will respond. However, I also feel it would be insensitive of me to press my suit at this time, just a few days after her father’s death. Certainly, you can see that?”

Arnold was not satisfied with that answer and stepped toward his son. “I am not saying propose to her now but go over and show her your sympathy. Offer to console her. Do anything to keep you in her mind. You absolutely must marry this woman!”

“But I do not even know what the inheritance is. What if she is to be no better off than Maria? I do not think she even knows at this point. These things take time. Her first concern is to hold a service for her father. Then there will no doubt be solicitors, and a will, and who knows how long any of that might take.”

“Then get yourself to London. Start looking for a bride there. How am I going to get it through your stupid, thick head that we are in a crisis here? The one opportunity I had has just fallen through, and I swear, unless you do something now, the creditors will swallow us alive before the autumn.”

Percy put his book aside and sighed. “Very well, I will go to see her this afternoon, but do not be surprised if instead of helping my cause, I hurt it by appearing to be too obviously a fortune hunter.”

“Good God, boy, do I have to tell you everything? Do not be obvious. Do not talk money. Show her your heartfelt sympathy and concern. Offer her soothing condolences and let her open her heart to you. After all, you know her to have feelings for you. She is still a vulnerable woman with desires. Work your way even deeper into her heart, and when the time comes, then strike. It cannot be more than a few weeks or a month, can it?”

Percy rubbed his face with both hands, obviously agitated. “Father, why can I not marry Maria—the woman I do care for? She can bring three thousand to the marriage, and the Earl has a successful growing business with his cattle. Might there not be more money coming later?”

“I told you we need twenty thousand. How can you be so stupid?” Arnold went over and struck Percy across the side of his head with his walking stick. “Do not defy me. Do as you are told, you ingrate—or you shall be out of here on your ear and will be banished from this family forever.”

Percy was crouching on the floor, his hand to the side of his head, his ear swelling from the blow.

“I want a report this evening on your successful meeting with Anna Hoskins or tomorrow off you go to London. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Father,” Percy replied, feeling damaged.

It was a battle every day for Harry. The cattle occupied most of his time, but he also needed to confer with Maria about the running of the estate. He had local responsibilities as the Earl of Creassey, and his mind was occupied even more these days with his concern for Anna, knowing the grief she was going through—not to mention conjecturing that she would probably be marrying one day soon, now that she was wealthy and no longer under her father’s supervision.

Sometimes it was just too much stress and those were the times when he would take his rod and hide away to fish. The quiet murmur of the river soothed him. The patience required to land a fish steadied him, and the thrill of striking a catch always thrilled him.

He only told Maria he was taking time off, as he did not want to be found. He knew she respected his need to get away and would await his return if anything came up that required his attention.

Of course, as Percy and he fished so often together, he was not surprised to see Percy riding up just as he cast into a sweet spot where he might expect a good solid strike.

“Percy, old friend… you coming to fish?”

Percy said something indistinguishable as he pulled up his horse and teetered before dismounting.

Harry did a double take. “Are you all right, old friend?” he asked as he cast again. But as Percy walked toward him, Harry could see that something was wrong. His friend was holding his hand to the side of his head and he staggered as he walked.

Harry put his rod down and went over and took hold of Percy’s shoulders. He reeked of alcohol and the side of his face was covered with a red welt.

“What happened?” Harry asked, suddenly upset. “Have you been drinking?”

“Far too much. Father… the son of a bitch…”

“He hit you?”

“With his walking stick.”

“Why?” Harry led Percy to a nearby log where he made him sit and Harry kneeled down in front of him as he rubbed Percy’s shoulder.

“Why did he hit you, Percy?”

Weaving from side to side, Percy tried to speak but could not quite form the words and he burst into tears.

“Oh, Harry, it is so awful… I… I… I feel so helpless and I know not what to do.”

Harry stood up, sat down next to Percy and put his arm around his friend’s shoulder.

“Tell me what it is. Maybe there is something I can do to help.”

Percy shook his head. “There is nothing to be done. It is hopeless.”

“Why?”

“Father… has run the estate… into trouble. He says we are broke and he insists I marry money as soon as I… can. To save us.” Percy looked at Harry with pleading eyes.

“Who? Marry who?”

Percy started crying again. “I want… Maria… but… well, her dowry is not enough.”

“Maybe I can help some. How much does your father need?”

“Twenty-thousand… minimum. But even that is not enough if I am to have a life of my own with a new wife.”

“Sorry, old man that is way outside of what I can offer.”

“I was not really asking you.”

“Then what does he want you to do?”

“Marry Anna.”

This struck Harry to his heart. Not only because he yearned for Anna for himself, but because it was such a mercenary move on Percy’s part. Especially, when he knew that Percy and Maria cared for each other. Anna’s marriage to Percy would be a terrible blow to his sister as well as to him.

“I am supposed to visit Anna this afternoon but look at me. Look at my face. I cannot go there looking like this—tell her how much I care for her and present myself as a suitor. She would be horrified.”

“There must be some other way to solve your father’s problem. Why is he not the one who must be responsible? Why is he putting this all on you?”

“I believe he has tried, but to no avail. And he sees me as useless and feels that, as the future duke, I must take more responsibility for the estate. He feels it cannot be all on him.”

Harry nodded. “He does have a point, my friend. As dear a friend as you are, you really are a bit useless. You have no direction. No goals. And no profession. How do you expect to become the Duke of Crauford with a worthless estate and no income?”

“By marrying Anna.”

“You know you will devastate Maria and hurt me.”

“How will I hurt you?” Percy asked.

“You know I have feelings for Anna. I have for a long time.”

“But Harry, it is me Anna has feelings for. The fact that I care for Maria is nothing in the world we live in. I must take advantage of Anna’s feelings for me if I am to save my family.”

Harry was gravely disappointed. “Percy, this is a tragedy. Not only for you—but for Anna, for Maria, and for myself. I cannot allow you to go through with this.”

Percy seemed to be sobering up. “And how are you to stop me?”

“By calling upon our friendship.”

Hanging his head, Percy said, “Oh, Harry… if only it were that simple.” He stood. “I am sorry, old friend, but my family must come first. And I do believe you would do the same.”

“I would certainly hope not. But I am not in your boots, so I do not know how I should react.”

Percy turned and started toward his horse.

“You are going to see Anna, looking like that?”

Turning back, Percy said, “I will tell her I fell off my horse and seek her sympathy. Does that not always work on a lady’s delicate feelings?”

“You are a scoundrel, Percy Garvey.” But he was concerned and worried about his friend.

Percy was dressed in his regular day wear. He had not spruced up to call on Anna, because he wanted it to seem as if he was calling to console her not to woo her. The alcohol had mostly worn off and Percy seemed to be no longer intoxicated.

Warrick said he would have to see if Miss Anna was accepting visitors today, and led him to a small parlor with a view of a corner of the formal garden.

“Mr. Percy, you wanted to see my sister?” It was Dorothy, most surprising dressed in black. Not surprising because she was wearing it, considering her loss, but surprising because it so unsuited her usual bright and airy demeanor.

“Might I speak with her?”

“She is currently with Maria. The three of us are in the process of preparing for the after-service reception. She asked if I might help you instead.”

Oh, Maria was here. This unsettled Percy for he did not want her to know that he was calling on Anna. But she would know eventually, in any case.

“I just wanted to pay my respects and see how the two of you were holding up in your time of grief.”

Dorothy looked at him strangely—as though he had come to the wrong house.

“As one might expect,” she said a bit impatiently. “You have been invited to the memorial service, I am certain we shall see you then. However, right now we are engaged and not really receiving visitors at this time. I hope you will excuse us. We do not mean to be rude.”

“I quite understand. Then please give my regards to your sister and tell her I will see her at the service. And forgive my intrusion. But it was only out of the greatest concern for the two of you.”

He was holding his hat in his hands and he bowed slightly as he turned to leave.

“Mr. Percy,” Dorothy said, stopping him. “I am sorry if I seemed abrupt. I know my sister will be grateful of your call. Good day.”

“Good day,” he said, and left—devastated that he would have to face his father and report that he had failed to even see Miss Anna this time. Or would he? His father need not know they had not met. Best to string the old man along with what he wanted to hear, until the time when Percy would propose and be accepted. He did not want to suffer another blow to the head.