Chase promptly forgot his own troubles. “What’s wrong with Stephen?” he asked Sophia.

“He’s in love.”

Ophelia nodded. “With Miss Strickton. But she won’t have anything to do with him.”

“He’s young,” Chase said. “He’ll get over it.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sophia said, tilting her head to one side. “He’s loved her for a long time. Since he was seven.”

“Seven?”

Ophelia nodded. “And she’s always been fond of him. Until this year, of course. Her father took her to London for the season and I think it quite turned her head.”

Harriet joined them, her expression closed. Chase wanted to say something to ease her mind. But he couldn’t seem to find the words. What right did he have to offer comfort, anyway? She was surrounded by her family, her loved ones, all of whom looked up to her and admired her. What could he offer that she didn’t already have?

The thought left him feeling alone and out of place. He forced himself to swallow the words of support he’d thought to utter. Instead, he turned away, unaware that as he did so, Harriet’s gaze followed him, her expression growing even sadder.

“Time to get to work,” Harriet said. “Stephen will stay here and assist Mother.” She climbed into the back of the wagon and made a seat on a barrel. “Jem, we’re ready.”

“Yes, Miss Ward.” The older of the two farmhands untied the reins. Soon they were jouncing along, the wheels squeaking down the rutted path.

Chapter 15

If I could have one wish, it would be to become fantastically wealthy. If I could have two wishes, it would be to become fantastically wealthy and stay that way.

Viscount Rose to Mr. Giles Standish as the two glumly watch Viscount Rose’s prize bays go up for auction in a last-ditch attempt to settle his debts

Sheep, Chase decided on the third day of his incarceration (for he refused to think of it as else), were not the mild-mannered animals one might have been led to believe from nursery-rhyme lore.

Oh no. Despite their large brown eyes and soft woolen exteriors, they were imminently capable of capricious behavior that could only be described as malicious, malevolent, and mean.

Something as simple as herding the stupid creatures from one field into the next was tantamount to climbing the icy summits of Mt. Olympus and fighting off an army of Cyclopses while wearing a tattered loincloth and carrying no weapons other than a rock and a very small slingshot.

He’d been working with the Wards and their two hired helpers for three whole, endless days, each one longer than the previous. And now, on the dawn of the fourth day, he could barely move, his entire body was a mass of bruises, aches, sunburn, and blisters.

The sad thing was that the shearing hadn’t even begun. All they had done so far was move the sheep to the field beside the barn and repair some fencing along the way.