“I have the claim to you, Miss Kellaway.”
“I think not, sir!” she responded furiously. “Upon my word, you have a strange concept of possession! What gives you that right?”
“Those who put themselves up for sale, Miss Kellaway—” Seagrave began, only to break off as she interrupted him with no thought for courtesy.
“I am not to be bought, sir, nor have I ever been! You may take your insulting suggestions elsewhere!”
The Virtuous Cyprian
Harlequin Historical
Harlequin Historicals is delighted to introduce author Nicola Cornick
Brand-new to Harlequin Historical, British author Nicola Cornick had her North American publishing debut in March 2001 with her Regency True Colours.
Be sure to look for the sequel to True Colours, The Larkswood Legacy, from Harlequin Reader’s Choice in July 2001
and the sequel to The Virtuous Cyprian, Lady Polly, from Harlequin Historical in August 2001
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Nicholas John Rosslyn Seagrave, eighth Earl of Seagrave and Dillingham, was contemplating matrimony. It was not the abstract state that preoccupied him as he strolled along Bond Street in the afternoon sunshine, but his own approaching nuptials, confirmed that very morning by a notice in the Gazette. Miss Louise Elliott, his future Countess, was everything that his pride and lineage demanded: well-bred, accomplished and pretty, albeit in an insipidly pale way. He should have been delighted; instead, he was beset by the habitual boredom which had dogged his heels since his return from the Peninsular Wars several years earlier. All the delights of Town, sampled in full measure, had failed to alleviate this ennui. Now it seemed that his impending marriage could not lift his spirits either.
Some seventy miles away on Seagrave’s Suffolk estate, it was also a somnolent summer afternoon, and the Earl’s agent, Mr Josselyn, was dozing surreptitiously at his desk in the Dillingham Manor Court. There had been very little business to keep him awake. A dispute over the enclosure of common land had been resolved with the offender reluctantly agreeing to remove his fence; a violent argument between two of the villagers over the antecedents of a certain horse one had sold the other had led to fines on both sides. The last matter of the afternoon was the transfer of a copyhold tenancy on an estate house to the nephew of the late occupant. Mr Josselyn shuffled his papers, anxious to be away. He cleared his throat.
‘Mr Walter Mutch has petitioned that the copyhold tenancy for the house named Cookes in the village of Dillingham be transferred to him, by right of inheritance on behalf of his mother, sister of the previous lessee, Mr George Kellaway…’
The sonorous words echoed in the high rafters. Walter Mutch, a dark young man whom Josselyn privately considered rather wild, got to his feet with a show of respect. Josselyn examined him cynically. Mutch had never been close to his maternal uncle, but had seen his chance quickly enough to claim the house on Kellaway’s death. Cookes was a fine property, set back from the village green and with several acres of orchard and gardens attached. Kellaway had been a gentleman of means, but his interests as a scholar and explorer had led him to choose to rent a house rather than maintain his own home during his long absences abroad. He had been a friend and contemporary of the previous Earl of Seagrave, and it had been natural for him to take a house on the estate. The copyhold agreement under which Kellaway had held Cookes was unusual, allowing for the tenancy to be inherited and not to revert to the Manor. Not that Lord Seagrave would care about the disposal of a minor property like Cookes, his agent thought a little sadly. The Earl seldom visited his Suffolk estate, evidently preferring the more sophisticated pleasures of the capital.
Josselyn was suddenly distracted by a movement at the back of the room. The courtroom door swung open, the draught of fresh air setting the dust motes dancing and bringing with it the scents of summer. He frowned. Who could be disturbing the court session at this late stage?
‘The petition of Walter Mutch having been given due consideration, this court agrees that the house called Cookes be transferred to his name from this, the fifth day of June in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixteen, and in the fifty-sixth year of the reign of our most gracious sovereign King—’
‘One moment, sir!’
The clerk’s quill spluttered on the parchment at the unexpected interruption and he reached hastily for the sand box to help staunch the flow of ink. Josselyn was dazzled by the sunlight and shaded his eyes impatiently.
‘Who wishes to speak? Step forward!’