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Can you call yourself alone amid the bevy of servants and retainers you are certain to have? Gracious, Blaze, you are a strange girl.”
    Blaze laughed at her sharp-tongued sister. “I am not certain that I shall know how to handle such a ‘bevy’,” she teased, and then she grew serious. “It is my family I shall miss, Bliss, for though we be poor in worldly goods, we are rich in our love for one another.”
    “I should sooner be rich in more practical ways,” grumbled Bliss with total candor.
    “Then once I am settled as Lord Wyndham’s wife I shall have to see what I can do to provide you with a suitable husband. Suitable,” she amended, “meaning rich!”
    “And for Blythe also,” Bliss said, protective as always of her twin.
    “For Blythe also,” Blaze agreed.
    “It can be no idle promise that you make, my dear,” said Lady Morgan. “Your sisters will indeed need your help and influence in finding husbands. As each of them weds, they in turn will help those remaining. This miracle of a match that has happened so suddenly to you is the answer to all of our prayers. The Earl of Langford is a most kind and generous man. If you make but the slightest effort to please him, you will be, I know, the happiest of women. He has sworn to us that you will be treated like a queen. When you give him an heir, Blaze, I suspect there is nothing within his power that cannot be yours.” She looked nervously at her daughter, wondering if the rebellion Blaze had exhibited earlier was still upon her.
    Knowing that her mother needed the reassurance, Blaze said dutifully, “I shall indeed endeavor to be a good wife to the earl, Mama, and as I love children, I want my own every bit as eagerly as does Lord Wyndham.”
    Lady Morgan looked relieved. “Oh, my dear,” she said, “I knew if you but thought things through you would see the wisdom of our decision.” Hugging her daughter, she finished somewhat tearily, “I am so happy for you!”
    “Madam,” protested her husband, “you will have this entire household of females in hysterics quite shortly if I do not remove our eldest from your sphere of influence. Run upstairs, Blaze, and change into your riding skirt. There are more practical things a good chatelaine should know. As your father, I feel it is my duty to present the male side of the coin. Hurry now!”
    Gratefully Blaze escaped the Great Hall of Ashby, her mother, and her sisters. She sped up the stairs to the small room she shared with Bliss and Blythe. Quickly she removed her everyday skirt and bodice, replacing them with a clean white shirt and a somewhat worn but sturdy dark velvet riding skirt. Whatever the skirt’s color had once been, the material had faded long since into an undistinguishable hue. From a corner she drew out her riding boots and pulled them on, wincing at the fact that they pinched her toes, which were now longer than when the boots had been made five years ago. Still, they had a comfortable familiarity about them. As she stood, however, it suddenly dawned on her that Lord Wyndham would probably have new boots made for her. New boots, and a riding skirt of deep blue velvet with a matching bodice, and a hat with a white plume! For a moment she closed her eyes, envisioning herself in such finery, and decided that she liked the picture. There were certain advantages to marriage with a wealthy man that she had not considered. How Bliss would chide her for that oversight.
    She hurried back down the staircase, out the front door to where her father was already mounted waiting. A stableboy boosted her into her own saddle, and father and daughter moved off from the house at a leisurely pace. They rode in silence for a time, but once they gained the narrow path across the estate through the fields, Lord Morgan asked his daughter, “How do you really feel about this marriage, Blaze?”
    “Would my feelings really make a difference, Papa? I must marry, must I not? And is not this match indeed a