His Impassioned Proposal (The Bridgethorpe Brides) by Aileen Fish Read Free Book Online Page B

needed to accomplish. Aside from the business of his father’s estate, he needed to replace his wardrobe, the thought of which made him shudder. But first he sent off a note to the solicitor to request an appointment.
    Mr. Needham’s quick response said he’d been expecting the call and would be pleased to receive him at eleven o’clock the next morning. Stephen spent the remainder of the afternoon in Jermyn Street, allowing himself to be measured and fitted and dressed from the skin out. The garments David had loaned him were finely made, but years of camp food and endless days of battle had left Stephen quite lean. Observing the fit of new tan breeches, white waistcoat and dark green cutaway coat, he was surprised to see his reflection wasn’t that of a horrid monster, even when he faced the glass head on. His facial scars were still ruddy, but his complexion was closer to normal, not the stark white of a man near death.
    “The eye patch will make you the dandy of the ball,” the white-haired tailor said, peering though his spectacles. “The young ladies love their soldiers, in uniform and out.”
    Turning to face the man, Stephen asked, “Do I still reek of the battlefield? How do you know I wasn’t injured in an accident?”
    “It is in your stature. Men of quality are all taught to stand straight and tall, but none does it so well as the man who has served his king.”
    Stephen refrained from checking his stance in the mirror, instead giving the tailor instructions on where to send the purchases.
    Before returning to his rooms, he paid a visit to Hatchard’s Bookshop. His father’s library hadn’t been damaged in the fire, but Stephen couldn’t resist the chance to indulge himself in a few books. He hadn’t read for pleasure in many years.
    He hadn’t done anything for pleasure, now that he thought on it, in longer than he cared to think.
    With one last stop for meat pies and tea from a vendor on the street, he made his way back to Eaton Place, where he curled up with one of his new books, polished off the pies and fell asleep in the parlor chair.

    Waking early, as was his habit, Stephen strolled through Hyde Park with the nannies and dog-walkers, enjoying the occasional bark and childish giggle. A stray thought had him wondering if any of his school chums laid claim to one or two of the tots. At twenty-four, he assumed most of his contemporaries had not yet submitted to the parson’s mousetrap, but one never knew. Over the coming winter he’d write to some old friends and plan visits in the springtime.  
    The solicitor, Mr. Needham, ushered Stephen into a private office immediately upon his arrival, and motioned for him to sit. After the expected pleasantries, Needham got down to business. “As you probably are aware, your father’s will left everything to you, since your mother passed with him.”
    “I’ve some questions regarding his holdings. One of my father’s friends mentioned something about mills, and Father having sold off some of the land.”
    “That is correct. Mrs. Lumley’s cousin, Mr. Carr, offered your father an investment opportunity four years ago. Mr. Carr had a small woolen mill in Bingley, in West Yorkshire and needed capital to increase the size and expand his production. That initial investment paid off well enough the two men built another mill in Sowerby. Your father has doubled his living these past two years.”
    Stephen took all this in. The farm had supported his family in reasonable comfort, since they were not extravagant people. With the income doubled, he could take Jane to London each year, if she wished, to enjoy the season. He couldn’t afford rooms in Eaton Place, but somewhere slightly further out. They could enjoy the theatre, and might gain invitations to some of the assemblies.
    He would not be wealthy enough to compensate for his lack of title in the minds of many in Town, but surely Jane would be content with the number of invitations they