Page 1 of The Spring Promise
CHAPTERONE
1838, Lacey Farm, Barton Lacey
Molly Lacey leaned over the gate as Will Starling rode past the lane that led to her family farm. It was a beautiful day, and she was wearing one of her better gowns—the green brought out the colour of her eyes—but although she hoped he might notice her, he didn’t so much as give her a glance.
Her spirits sank lower and lower as he rode out of sight. He was going to the Morton house; she knew it. Everybody knew he had been dangling after Celeste Morton since the moment she arrived, and it was only a matter of time before he popped the question. And Celeste would say yes, of course she would! How could she not?
Molly sighed. Will had been her best friend since they were children but as they had grown into adults, she had begun to hope they could be more. Why couldn’t they marry? Join their lives together? There was no one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with more than Will, and it seemed so obvious to her. Surely, he could see it too?
I love you, Will.
Sometimes it was on the tip of her tongue, but she had never spoken it out loud.
Then Celeste Morton had arrived to stay with her uncle and suddenly Will had forgotten all about Molly. He was in love, but it wasn’t with her.
Tall and handsome Will with his auburn hair, blue eyes, and shy smile. Molly’s heart ached at the thought of him sitting next to Celeste in her modish gowns, fashionable dark hair and teasing glances. She was a flirt, and Will didn’t seem to notice how wide she cast her net when it came to the gentlemen of Barton Lacey. He believed he was the one who would win her heart and hand and bring her home to Starling Hall.
Molly had to stop pining over him like—as her younger sister Grace put it—a moonstruck fool. There were plenty of other prospects in the district. The Lacey family might not be wealthy now, but they had been once. They had been the lords of the manor since the time of William the Conqueror, but as the centuries had passed, they had slipped lower on the social scale. Now they were farmers.
Although it was a very nice farm, and Molly reminded herself that they owned their land and did not pay rent. They may not have been county gentry, like the Mortons or the Starlings, or the Norris’s who spent most of their year in London. But the Laceys were well liked and invited to all the local dances and suppers.
Will Starling’s father was a baronet, and the title of ‘Sir’ would pass to his son, just as his wife would be known as ‘Lady’. If anyone could be considered the squires of Barton Lacey, then it was the Starlings of Starling Hall.
Molly might be naïve—Grace often said that too—but she had always believed if you loved someone, then nothing else mattered. Lately she had begun to realise that for someone like Will, who would one day inherit Starling Hall and everything that went with it, he had to think carefully when it came to choosing a wife.
Wealth would be useful—there were a great many Starlings to feed and educate and launch into Barton Lacey society. It would also be useful to have a wife who would not pine for the excitement of the capital or want to gallivant about most of the time. The Starlings were the sort of family who believed in the importance of spending time together, and Will’s future wife would need to enjoy domestic life.
Molly believed she could do that, especially if she had Will to herself at night in their bedchamber. Just the two of them discussing the future and laughing about the past. She was willing to help out with all of those Starling children if it meant the eldest son was hers.
But it wasn’t up to her, and that was what had her in the doldrums.
She’d even turned down the rather handsome son of a local farmer because she had hoped that Will might still come to his senses. Well, it was too late and that farmer’s son had gone on to marry someone else.
And now Will was going to marry Celeste—at least, that was what everyone said—and it was time for Molly to face facts. Will was lost to her.
Somehow, she would have to put her love for him aside and get on with her life.
CHAPTERTWO
What everyone was saying was true, Will Starling did have his sights set on Celeste Morton. From the moment first saw her, smiling at him from her uncle’s carriage, he’d been determined to win her heart. However, every other single gentleman in Barton Lacey seemed to have the same aim. But Will’s was unwavering, and once he set his mind on a thing, he did not give up until he had it.
He found Celeste fascinating in a way that kept him awake late at night. That little smile that curved at the corners of her pink lips, followed by a glance from under her lashes, as if she was checking to see whether he had noticed her. Which he had. Of course he had.
Abby, his elder sister, said he was infatuated. Sometimes she said he was besotted. She would shake her head at him and say, “Love takes time,” with all the wisdom her two years of seniority allowed. “It doesn’t strike like a bolt of lightning. That’s just a nursery tale. You need to know someone properly before you can fall in love with them. Everything else is make believe.”
Will didn’t have time for Abby’s cautious nonsense. If he didn’t move quick, Celeste would be lost to him. Once they were wed, his whole family—his eight siblings and his parents—would have to admit he had been right all along. She was perfect. He imagined Celeste living in Starling Hall, seated at the long table, picking flowers from his mother’s garden, and retiring with him to his bedchamber.
And if sometimes his imaginings felt more like wistful thinking than reality, and doubts tried to thrust their way into his bright and shiny dream, he pushed them aside and refused to consider for a moment that he was wrong.
The Starlings were a large, warm-hearted family that supported one another and shared everything, but Will wanted something that was his and his alone. A love to sustain him through the years of toil that lay ahead, of always thinking of someone else—whether his younger brother Nigel needed new shoes or his sister Christine had piano lessons that day, or his other sister Breana was involved in another scrap. Will wanted to be seen for himself rather than just the Starling heir. He was dependable and trustworthy, but at times it seemed to him as if he had been forgotten.
That was why he needed Celeste to marry him. With her at his side, he would never fade into the background.
As he rode past the Lacey farm he almost stopped. He used to, the Lacey’s farmhouse was like a second home to him, but he reminded himself he no longer had time to waste on social calls. Molly was his best friend, but he didn’t think she would mind his neglect, not when he presented Celeste to her as his future wife. Molly would be happy for him, just as he would be pleased for her when she married.
When he reached the Morton house, he noticed a horse tethered outside. His expression fell as he recognised it as Mark Hunter’s gelding. Hunter was an acknowledged ne’er-do-well, but for some reason Celeste seemed to like him. He had arrived in Barton Lacey shortly after Celeste and was living with an elderly grandparent. Word was he was rusticating here until some scandal or other back in London had died down.
Will didn’t care what Hunter had done, he just wanted him to go away.
