Free Surrender by Amanda Quick Page A

her up against the garden wall. The sweet, spicy scent of her still lingered in his head, mingling with the fragrance of the rich port.
    His eyes fell on the portrait that hung over the mantel. Slowly Lucas made his way across the faded carpet to stand in front of the unsmiling face of his uncle.
    Maitland Colebrook, the previous Earl of Stonevale, had not had much to smile about in his last years. Plagued by ill health and depressed spirits, he suffered from an abiding resentment against everything and everyone. Maitland’s unpredictable temper had often flared into uncontrolled violence, a violence that was frequently loosed on whoever happened to be in the vicinity, leaving Stonevale always wanting of servants.
    In his younger days Maitland Colebrook had beengiven to debauchery, drink, and gaming on a wild scale. He had disappeared from Society after going through the bulk of his inheritance, an inheritance which had already been thinned out by his father.
    He had become an eccentric recluse, cutting off all communication not only with his London acquaintances, but with his relatives. He had retired to the country to drain what little was left from his estates. He had never married, and when the end had come several months ago, he had grudgingly summoned his heir, a nephew he barely knew.
    Lucas remembered the interview well. The gloomy master bedroom with its decaying draperies and shabby furnishings looked pleasant compared to Maitland Colebrook, who, withered and pasty-faced, was propped up in the ancient oak bed, a bottle of port and a bottle of laudanum at his side.
    “It’s all yours, nephew, every last cursed inch of Stonevale. If you have any sense, you’ll walk away and let it rot into the ground. No good has ever come of these lands,” he wheezed, wrapping his bony fingers around a dingy blanket and glaring coldly at Lucas.
    “Probably because no one in recent history has bothered to put any time and money into them,” Lucas had pointed bitterly. Any fool could see that Stonevale had potential. The land was good; it could be made productive again.
    Money was the key to reviving Stonevale; money and a lord who cared about his people and estates.
    “No point pouring money into Stonevale. Place is cursed, I tell you. Ask anyone around here. Been that way for generations. Bad soil, lazy farmers, undependable water supply. Not a damn thing that’s worth saving. Should have sold the whole bloody place. Don’t know why I didn’t,” the old man continued, his voice dry and raspy.
    At that point the dying earl had leaned over to yank open a drawer in the night table. His shaking fingers had fumbled around inside for a moment, then closed over an object he could retrieve by the touch. Then he had hurled the thing at Lucas, who had automatically reached out to catch it.
    When he opened his fingers, Lucas found himself staring down at a circular amber pendant dangling from a thin chain. There were two figures carved on the pendant rendered in such a finely crafted manner that they appeared to be two miniature humans frozen for all time in the translucent yellow-gold stone. The images were clearly of a knight and his lady.
    “What is this, sir?” Lucas demanded, his fingers again closing tightly around the pendant.
    “Damned if I know. A gift from my father just before he died. Claimed he’d found it in the old maze in the center of the south garden. Local folks think it represents the legend.”
    Lucas studied the stone. “What legend?”
    Maitland turned purple with sudden fury. “The legend that makes this godforsaken estate so useless, the one responsible for ruining my life, for denying me a son of my own. The legend of the Amber Knight and his lady.”
    “What is the truth behind the legend?”
    “Go ask one of the old witches in the village if you want to know the tale. I’ve got better things to do than tell you stories.”
    And with that, Maitland had lapsed into a fit of coughing. Lucas had