In this captivating tale, get ready to be swept away by the fiery romance between a spoiled and irresistible future Duke and a fiercely ambitious African-American law student. When Hervé hatches a plan to use Sadie to appease his marriage-minded par...
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12 years earlier
"I'm already under pressure from father to find the lass with the right breeding. Who talks like that nowadays?" Emery grumbles poking at his baked beans and crisp toast.
"I hear you Knipschild. I thought being the next Baron of Chesterfield meant hot desperate lasses wanting to please me, use me and abuse me; but old Baron Chesterfield wills none of that." Koen grunts into his sunny side up. I sit back and look at my friends
"Knipschild, your father had you in his late thirties and you're his first." I point out
"I know!" He exclaims agitatedly
"That's some attractive twaddle right there. He ought to be taken up by the devil." Hilliard announces passionately
"Hodge, hold your horses, perhaps old Lord Knipschild has a point in his intentions for Emery." Leigh says
"I'll none of it! He had his fun in his youth and wants to deny his son any. That's blasphemy and treachery sliced maliciously and malevolently by the very green hands of self intent." Hilliard preaches prudently
"I second that." Emery announces with a nod and a salute of his glass of orange
"And I join the wagon baron Hadley." Koen concurs fully
"I say to Hades with those bureaucrats, we have minds of our own. We ought not be told what to do with titles we didn't ask for! In fact we should teach those old chums a lesson in modern society." Hilliard declares, flaring his red head of hair like he was already in the House of Lords making a speech on pressing issues.
"And what lesson might this be?" I inquire hiding my smile behind a cup of tea
"We ought to break their backs in a match of polo for our independent minds." He announces.
And therein the fault in his highness the next Baron of Hadley lies. Hilliard cut a tall figure in his coat. I'd be the first to admit he had too many pints of charisma in his blood, but all that seemed to do was place ideas of grandeur in his head, make him ignite fires he couldnt feed as you have just witnessed.
"You barely play." I point out
"Must you be so wet a blanket duke Angelford?" he passionately inquires
