Free A Daring Sacrifice by Jody Hedlund Page A

wished there was. I wished there was a way to change everything. But the reality was that I would have to return to the forest at the end of the week. And maybe with Collin’s purse of gold and the diamond necklace, I wouldn’t have to resort to thieving for a while.
    â€œLet’s just follow through with our bargains to one another,” I said, putting more distance between us. “That’s all I want.”
    If only that really was all I wanted.

Chapter
7

    I SIPPED THE WARM ALE AND IGNORED THE LEDGER SPREAD open on the table in front of me. Even though my steward had brought it out upon my request, I couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for making sense of the numbers.
    Something deep inside admonished me to put forward at least a little energy in gaining a basic understanding of the massive fortune I’d inherited from my father. But now that I was actually sitting in the cozy solar, ready to take more responsibility as I knew I should, I couldn’t think of anything but Juliana. The transformation from bandit to beauty had been so complete, she’d taken my breath away. Seeing her in my hall at the banquet, I’d known that’s where she belonged. She’d blended in and resumed her natural role as a lady, with an elegance and poise as if she’d never left.
    More than that, I couldn’t stop thinking about her dedication to her band of thieving followers. The only reason she’d agreed to my bargain was so that she could get the gold—not for herself, but for them. I admired her commitment, her loyalty, and her willingness to sacrifice, even if she was going about it all in the wrong ways.
    And I was still marveling that she’d allowed me to comfort her in the garden. Embracing her had made my heart drum with a new kind of desire—a longing to be with her again, to spend the day with her, to discover more about her.
    I sighed and stared unseeingly at William’s meticulous marks on the parchment pages. “You’ve done a good job keeping the records, William,” I finally said to my steward, who stood next to the desk.
    William pushed his thick eyeglasses up on his nose. “Thank you, thank you, my lord. Do you have any questions? Any questions at all?”
    â€œWilliam has kept me quite apprised,” Irene piped in from her chair in front of the hearth, where she sat quietly working on her embroidery. “And he’s been as frugal and conscientious as he was when father was alive.”
    William shifted and bumped into the quill pen perched on the corner of the desk. The pen toppled and William fumbled for it, but it slipped through his fingers and clattered to the floor.
    I tried to focus on the numbers that filled the neat columns. Even if I understood what all the notes meant, I still wouldn’t know what questions to ask.
    Juliana’s statement in the garden last evening came back to me as it had throughout the long night. I only regret that I’ve subjected myself to this extravagance when so many of my friends would be satisfied with the crusts of bread left over from the banquet.
    Did I live in extravagance? Were others suffering while I feasted?
    Obviously, the poor farmers and peasants who resided on my land didn’t live the way I did. Nor did they expect to. They accepted their position in life the same way I did mine.
    Sure, I’d visited among the poor with Lady Rosemarie this past summer. I’d witnessed her compassion. But at the time, I’d assumed they were in need because of the strange plague devastating their towns. But what if the poor were suffering more than I’d ever considered?
    â€œWilliam,” I started, trying to work out my confusion. “Can we put together gifts for the poorest tenants on our land?”
    â€œGifts, my lord?” William had stooped to pick up the quill pen, but at my question it slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor again.
    I leaned back in the