The Bride Price Read Online Free

I may just decide to take away everything. The village celebrations, your house, your monies, your access to Sarah. Everything . Do I make myself clear?”
    She could hear her own breathing. “Perfectly.”
    “Good. I have need of you at Roseford Grange tomorrow. Be by in the morning. You are dismissed.”
    The earl bent back over his figures, his plans,his empire building. The earl’s heir was on the continent, fulfilling his last bits of education. Not that George would have gone against his father, but she could have used some help.
    Caroline marched from the room, her own plans forming. She gathered the shrunken form of her companion outside the door and continued toward the east wing. “There’s nothing for it, Sarah. We will have to work from within the tournament.”
    “Caro.” The nineteen-year-old girl gripped her arm. “You shouldn’t have argued with Father.”
    “Your father needs to be challenged every once in a while. Sometimes I think that is the only reason he allows me such liberties.” But she had to be careful of going too far. She had read the threat in his eyes. The seriousness there. He might indulge her due to their entwined pasts, but that would last only so long.
    “But—”
    “Not here.” The servants watched them, bowing to Lady Sarah as they moved toward Sarah’s rooms.
    As soon as they were safely ensconced inside with a pot of tea, Caroline tucked a blanket around her friend’s legs. Six years’ difference in age had firmly established their hierarchy of need, no matter the distance in social standing or family connection.
    “We will need to look closely at each participant. Determine who is worthy and who is not.”
    “Does it matter?” Sarah leaned her head back against the chair.
    “Of course it does! They can’t all be bad, right?” She tried not to inject the uncertainty she felt.
    Sarah shook her head.
    “We will just have to cull the Anthonys from the list.”
    Her friend forced a smile.
    “I never liked him from your letters,” Caroline said loyally, disliking the man she had never met. “He is the one lacking, not you.”
    “He was a lovely poet.” Her friend’s eyes sought the window. “He particularly liked to compare my skin to all manners of attractive things. Roses, lilies, dahlias. Once he even used a turnip to describe my lips.”
    Caroline set out a cup of milk and a few lumps of sugar, trying to hide a smile at Sarah’s attempt at a jest. “Artists are a strange lot. And poets—always trying to find something to rhyme with rutabaga. It would have driven you mad.”
    Sarah’s smile curved into something more genuine. “Yes, well, I won’t have to worry about rogue rutabagas anymore.”
    Caroline returned her smile and tried to keep things upbeat. She could always hope that Anthony, the unreliable fortune hunter, showed up to the estate for the games. She had all manner of nice surprises for a guest of his ilk. “You can plant rutabagas on your new properties. Roseford Grange is part of the prize, and I hear it is a lovely piece of land. Perfect as the country seat for the winner, and not overly far from here, so you can visit on a regular basis.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yes, the Duke of Grandien is including the estate as part of the prize. The earl wants me to visit it tomorrow and sketch the manor. Will you come?”
    Sarah smiled, the edges of her eyes still taut with stress. “Yes, if I can part from Lady Tevon, my new chaperone, I most definitely would like to do that. I need to keep a positive perspective.”
    Caroline fiddled with her cup. “Do you think we could petition the King?”
    The lines around Sarah’s eyes grew. “No. The King sees the whole competition as an incentive to make sure one of his godchildren is married well.”
    She took a deep breath before continuing. “I saw him a few days past. He has signed a document promising the winner a viscountcy. After the competition ends, he’ll have the letters-patent drawn up