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face, Lord Edwin took the letter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you couldn’t read.”
    Embarrassment burned his cheeks. He could barely sign his name, let alone read a letter. Lord Edwin perched his large behind on the edge of his desk, cleared his throat and began to read.
    By the time Lord Edwin finished, Trystan sat frozen in shock. Him, a junior boss with a pay increase! He shook Lord Edwin’s hand, who sanctimoniously nodded with innate pleasure.
    “Well, I hear you are soon to be a married man?” he remarked slyly. “And you will need more money to perhaps start a family soon?”
    “Yes, my Lord.”
    Lord Edwin shook his head. “It will be a shame for young Jenna to leave her duties as my wife’s personal servant. Lady Emmeline has grown very fond of her over the years. You know young man, fatherhood is not something you will wish to rush into, especially when faced with the burgeoning prospects your career at Penrose Mines holds for you. Besides which, you will miss Jenna’s wages should she be forced to stay home and take care of an infant. No, there is plenty time to start a family. You are still a young man barely out of your teens. You do not wish to be held down with hungry mouths to feed and a wife whose once girlish figure has been laid to waste!”
    “Exactly, my Lord.” Trystan gushed in agreement. “And thank you. Thanks to you and to Lady Emmeline for all you have done for me and Jenna.”
    “And thank you, Trystan. Your father was a well respected worker within my company and I have a feeling you are following in his footsteps, so thank you for wishing to stay here in Cornwall. America is not for everyone. I know you will make a much better wage and life for yourself here in your home county rather than in a foreign and dangerous land.”
    * * * *
    Sir Jack Bartholomew walked along the steep craggy crevice that led down from Sharptor. He arose long before dawn, unable to sleep. He thought a brisk walk might help him clear his mind of the beautiful Jenna Penworthy occupying his thoughts for the last few days. His walk took him past her cottage, past where he knew she would be sleeping—her innocence lost in a dream world—and up toward Sharptor. As he reached the summit of the granite littered hill, he sat and watched the sun rise over the moorland, deep in thought.
    He had not meant to go to the Penworthy’s cottage that previous eve. Thoughts of the fragile servant lingered so fervently in his mind that he ventured out on the pretext of retrieving his coat and silver flask. He did not expect to see the young girl up from her bed, let alone dressed in a wedding gown. At the sight of her clothed in the ivory silk, her hair a cloak of raven satin draping over her shoulders, his heart stopped. So, she was betrothed? It seemed a tragic realization this girl who stole his thoughts was soon to marry another man. The thought of her in the arms of any man cut like a strange dagger through Jack’s heart.
    Jack stood silently in the doorway of the small cottage, clutching the bouquet of bluebells he picked along the woodland pathway. In his nervousness, he was oblivious to the banter of the small boys who now ran around him, admiring his pocket watch, his walking cane and his fine leather riding boots. Fortunately, the plump woman at the servant’s feet immediately came to his rescue and, plumping up the cushion on the small threadbare chair, bade him to sit.
    “I just happened to be passing by.” He avoided eye contact with the beautiful servant girl who looked at him with such longing his mouth went dry. “I thought I should stop by and see if you were better. You looked so ill last night. Lady Emmeline was most frightened.”
    His gaze now met the piercing blue eyes of the wedding dress clad girl who nodded, biting her bottom lip. The sensual act made his loins ache with longing. Her gaze left his momentarily as she slid it over his arms, before lifting her gaze once more to meet