Free Surrender by Amanda Quick Page B

quickly poured a glass of port and offered it to the pale, thin lips. His uncle had taken a long swallow and quietened.
    “It’s no good, you know,” Maitland Colebrook continued. “None of it. Never was; never will be. Bad luck, the whole wretched place. Take my advice and let it go, boy. Don’t try to save it.”
    Lucas looked down at the amber pendant, possessiveness and sudden resolve flaring in him. “Do you know, Uncle, I believe I will ignore your advice. I am going to save Stonevale.”
    Maitland Colebrook looked up at him with bloodshot, weary eyes. “And just where do you think you’ll get the blunt? I’ve heard you’ve some skill at the gaming tables, but you cannot win enough to supply yourself with the sort of steady income you would need to save this estate. I know. I tried that in my younger days.”
    “Then I’ll have to find another way to get the money, won’t I?”
    “Only other way is to snare yourself an heiress, and that’s easier said than done. No decent woman of the ton who has money of her own will look twice at a penniless earl. Her family will be able to do better by her than you.”
    Lucas met his uncle’s glare. “Perhaps I should look a little lower than the ton.”
    “You’d be wasting your time. Hell, I know the talk in the clubs. There’s always a lot of speculation about offering one’s title in exchange for some merchant’s daughter who comes equipped with an inheritance. But fact is, it don’t work that way very often. Money marries money and that’s as true among the Cits as it is in the ton.”
    His uncle’s words rang again in Lucas’s head tonight as he stood gazing up at the dour portrait of Maitland Colebrook. He smiled grimly and raised his glass in a small toast.
    “You were wrong, Uncle. I’ve found my heiress and I’ve set my snares well tonight. She’s going to lead me a damned merry dance but in the end she will be mine.”
    And that end could not come fast enough to suit him, Lucas decided as he tossed down the rest of his port. He wanted Victoria’s fortune, but he had learned tonight that he also wanted Victoria.
    Lucas set down his glass, aware of the amber pendant warm against his chest. He had worn it around his neck, concealed under his clothing, since the night Maitland Colebrook had tossed it at him.
    As Lucas stood alone in the library contemplating his future it occurred to him that the rich, tawny glow of the amber was an exact match for the color of Victoria’s eyes.

4

    L ucas walked up the steps of Lady Nettleship’s town house with a sense of keen anticipation mixed with icy determination. He was in a mood not unlike the one that came over him when he sat down to a gaming table. Everything in him was focused now on winning, and Lucas knew he was very good at winning.
    He had learned long ago that for a man who must live by his wits, there was no substitute for careful planning and strategy. He knew the value of a cool head and the ability to push aside all emotion in the midst of battle or a card game. Cold-blooded logic was the key to survival and Lucas knew it.
    He was well aware that the reason he was able to survive and even flourish at the tables of the clubs and gaming hells of London was simply that he never allowed his emotions to interfere with his play. Unlike the wildly impulsive young bucks, the flamboyant, drunken lords, or the foolish dandies who loved to throw their money away in melodramatic style, Lucas never allowed himself to act out of either exuberance, false pride, or desperation.
    When one’s luck was running poorly, one simply quit the table and waited for another time and place. Lucas had always found another time and place.
    But as successful as he was at the gaming tables, his uncle had been right; there was little chance of winning enough blunt to save Stonevale. Lucas knew he could waste a lifetime attempting to accomplish that feat. The lands and people of Stonevale could not wait that long.
    It did