Chapter One

      February 1815—Lincolnshire, England

      The winter wind rattled the windowpanes of Summerfield House as Tess Summerfield answered her older sister’s summons.

      Come to the morning room immediately, her note said.

      More bad news, Tess feared. It seemed lately that the only time Lorene summoned her and their youngest sister, Genna, to that parlour was to hear bad news.

      The wind’s wail seemed appropriately foreboding.

      The morning room on its best sunny days filled with light, but this day it seemed awash in grey. Lorene stood ominously by the fireplace. Genna sat sulkily in a nearby chair.

      ‘What is it, Lorene?’ Tess asked.

      Lorene had been acting oddly lately, leaving the house on unexplained errands and remaining away for hours.

      Their father’s sudden death two months ago had seemed the worst of circumstances, but shortly afterwards they’d also discovered that he’d depleted their dowries before he died. Next, the distant cousin who was to inherit their father’s title and property made it very clear he had no intention of providing for them. After all, everyone believed the scandalous Summerfield sisters were really not Summerfields at all. Rumour always had it that each had been sired by a different lover.

      Before their mother ran off with one, that was.

      This heir to their father’s baronetcy also made it clear he wished to take possession of the entailed property as soon as possible and that meant the sisters must vacate the house, their home for all their lives.

      What more could happen to them?

      ‘Please sit,’ Lorene said, her lovely face lined with stress.

      Tess exchanged a glance with Genna and sat as instructed.

      Lorene paced in front of them. ‘I know we all have been worried over what would become of us—’

      Worry was too mild a term. Tess expected they would be split apart, forced to take positions as governesses or lady’s companions, if they should be so lucky as to find such positions, given the family’s reputation.

      ‘I—I have come upon a solution.’ Lorene sent them each a worried look.

      If it was a solution, why did she appear so worried? ‘What is it, Lorene?’

      Lorene wrung her hands. ‘I—I discovered a way to restore your dowries. A way to make you eligible again.’

      It would take a sizeable dowry to erase the scandal that had dogged them their whole lives. If their mother’s abandonment were not enough, there was also their father’s scandal. Even before their mother left, he’d brought his bastard son home to rear. Of course, Tess and her sisters loved Edmund; he was their brother, after all, even if his presence generated more talk.

      ‘What nonsense,’ Genna grumbled. ‘Nothing makes us eligible. Our mother had too many lovers. That is why we look nothing alike.’

      That was not entirely true. They all had high foreheads and thin faces, even if Lorene was dark-haired with brown eyes, Genna was blue-eyed and blonde, and Tess was somewhere in between, with chestnut hair and hazel eyes.

      Like their mother, Tess was told, although she did not remember precisely what her mother looked like.

      A thought occurred to her. ‘Lorene, do not say that you found our mother. Is she restoring our dowries?’

      Tess had been only nine when their mother left.

      Lorene looked surprised. ‘Our mother? No. No. That is not it.’

      ‘What is it, then?’ Genna asked testily.

      Lorene stopped pacing and faced them both. ‘I have married.’

      ‘Married!’ Tess rose from her chair. ‘Married!’

      ‘You cannot have married,’ Genna protested. ‘There were no bans.’

      ‘It was by special licence.’

      No. Impossible! Lorene would never have kept such a big secret from Tess. They shared every confidence—almost.

      ‘Who?’ she asked, trying not to feel hurt.

      Lorene’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Lord Tinmore.’

      ‘Lord Tinmore?’ Tess and Genna exclaimed in unison.

      ‘The recluse?’ Tess asked.

      Since the deaths of his wife and son years before, Lord Tinmore had secluded himself on his nearby estate in Lincolnshire, not too distant from their village of Yardney. Tess could not think of a time Lorene could have met the man, let alone be courted by him. No one saw Lord Tinmore.

      ‘He must be eighty years old!’ cried Genna.

      Lorene lifted her chin. ‘He is only seventy-six.’

      ‘Seventy-six. So much better.’ Genna spoke with sarcasm.

      Her adored older sister married to an ancient recluse? This was too much to bear. ‘Why, Lorene? Why would you do such a thing?’

      Lorene’s eyes flashed. ‘I did it for you, Tess. For both of you. Lord Tinmore promised to provide you with dowries and host you for a Season in London. He will even send Edmund the funds to purchase an advancement in the army and the means to support its expenses. He is a fine man.’

      She married this man so they could have dowries? And Edmund, advancement?

      ‘I never asked you for a dowry,’ Genna said. ‘And Edmund can earn advancement on his own.’

      ‘You know he cannot, now that the war is over,’ Lorene shot back. ‘He does not have enough as it is. It costs him money to be an officer, you know.’

      Genna shook her head. ‘Did our dowries not provide Edmund enough?’

      Their father had used the last of their dowry money to purchase the lieutenancy for Edmund.

      Lorene leaped to Edmund’s defence. ‘Edmund has no knowledge of that fact, Genna, and you are never to tell him. He would be sick about it if he knew. Besides, Papa intended to recoup the funds for our dowries. He assured me his latest investment would yield all we would need.’

      Of course, it would most likely go the way all his too-good-to-be-true investments went. If it paid off now, which was unlikely, the money would go to the estate’s heir. Their father’s will provided only for their now non-existent dowries.

      But Lorene would say nothing bad about their father. Or about anyone. She believed the best of everyone. Even their mother. Lorene would insist that abandoning her daughters had been the right thing for their mother, because she’d run off with a man she truly loved.

      What of the love a mother should have for her children? Tess wondered.

      Now Lorene was making the same mistake as their parents—engaging in a loveless marriage.

      She glared at Lorene. ‘You cannot possibly love Lord Tinmore.’

      ‘No, I do not love him,’ Lorene admitted. ‘But that is beside the point.’

      ‘Beside what point?’ Tess shot back. ‘Did you learn nothing from our parents? You will be miserable. You will make him miserable.’

      ‘I will not.’ Lorene straightened her spine. ‘I promised I would devote my life to making him happy and I intend to keep my promise.’

      ‘But what of you?’ Tess asked.

      Lorene averted her gaze. ‘I could not think of what else to do. What would become of you and Genna if I did nothing?’