Free Surrender by Amanda Quick Page B

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 godfor
    saken 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 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 stone vale."
    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.
    Lucas 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