Free Parthena's Promise by Valerie Holmes

He first walked toward the picturesque village square where in the centre there was a small water fountain. He allowed his horse to drink and lifted his small bag off the saddle and surveyed the buildings around him as he casually sought out legal offices, an inn, a small hotel and coffee house, milliner’s, saddler’s and blacksmith’s. The small apothecary and dispensary was next to a grocers’ shop.
    Jerome looked to the offices of Messrs. Blackmore, Hide and Stanton, the legal representatives that were next to Farthings and Crutch undertakers, and wondered at the name Stanton. It could be common enough, yet he wondered if it was in legal circles, for he had studied with a Geoffrey Stanton and taken exams at the same time as him… fate, he mused, could be a wonderful thing if it was working in your favour.
    He was about to enter the inn when a coach drew up in front of it. The man who alighted made straight for the coffee house. So, letting his intuition guide him, Jerome did likewise. It was then he saw a familiar face seated at a table with a rotund looking man. Both had greeted the gentleman from the coach and had not seen him enter behind him. Fascinated, Jerome slipped into a bay, determined to make himself comfortable in a settle behind where the group had gathered around a table.
    “Charles, good man, glad you could make it. Please sit down, sir. You know Stanton here. How was your journey?” The man’s voice almost fawned; Jerome’s gut instinct was to dislike him.
    “Not too bad, Bertram. So tell me, who is this person?” The newly arrived gentleman’s confident drawl was patronising, and Jerome disliked him straight away. He smiled as he was indeed suited to be a judge, but in his time watching people in court on both sides of the bench he had gained an insight into a person’s character by listening to what they said or did not say.
    Drinks were ordered and Jerome could not hear much more of their initial small talk as he too was served by a friendly young woman.
    “No,” Bertram’s voice rose, then as if remembering where he was, he lowered it and continued, “I tell you, she took herself off to North Yorkshire on the whim of becoming a governess. She ranted about making use of her education – I tell you, I have never heard such nonsense coming out of the mouth of a young lady. I tell you, she has been indulged as a child, for no other reason should a girl become such a wilful creature. It is not a quality that endears the person. I have not heard a word from her since. It is a bad business, Stanton,” Cousin Bertram was explaining.
    “So, where does this leave things, Bertram? Whatever the rash act of this girl is, it is of no consequence to our agreement, is it?” Charles asked.
    “Well, as I understand it, the legacy only attaches itself to the direct line. It blocks an heir from selling the estate on if it is passed down the direct bloodline, that is. So, if there is no son, and no son-in-law to inherit, then the land and all that is on and under it goes in entirety to the next of kin, however distant they may be.” Bertram cleared his throat. “Is that not correct, Stanton?”
    “Yes, it seems so,” Geoffrey Stanton replied. “It is, I am sure, not what was meant, but the devil is in the wording and therefore it is what the words written actually mean. However, this lady appears to have acted in haste. She is naïve and I am sure cannot have travelled far.”
    Geoffrey Stanton was being very considerate of Thena, Jerome realised, and perhaps he did not believe all that Bertram was saying. Jerome hoped so, for he could be an ally that Thena needed to extricate something from her situation.
    “I agree. If she had stayed and not acted so brazenly, right now I could be finding her a suitor, but now the headstrong, foolish girl has run away and I cannot trace where. A suitor is impossible unless I found a farm hand who would have such a tarnished reputation as hers. Still, that will