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if needs be until we both be forty, fifty or sixty! I’d wait until my grave!”
    Marissa almost smiled, he was so earnest and so dramatic.
    â€œJimmy, that much waiting would do in us all! No, there has to be some way, something that we can do!”
    They didn’t come up with any conclusions that night. And Marissa went to bed wondering once again how the squire could have promised his young and beautiful daughter to some old and withered crony, no matter how wealthy and prominent the man might be.
    It was the next day when the idea—outrageous as it was—occurred to Marissa.
    Mary lay in her bed, silent, her face pale, her cheeks gaunt. Jimmy idly stood by the fireplace, teasing the flames with the poker, and Marissa sat by Mary’s bed, silent, too, no longer pretending to read.
    â€œMary! I can do it!”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI can be you!”
    â€œOh, my Lord!” Mary breathed. Jimmy stared at them as if Mary’s fever had caused them both to go daft.
    â€œOh, my God! Could we pull it off?” Marissa demanded.
    â€œI know we could. I’ve never met this man. He’s a Californian, or something American like that.”
    â€œBut everyone here would know us—” Marissa began, then she laughed. “Mary! The solicitors already think I’m you. Oh, we can do this! We’ll plan very carefully. We’ll go to London! We’ll meet him in London.”
    â€œCan we …?”
    â€œYes! We’ll start right away. We’ll agree to the terms with the solicitors. We’ll sign everything here, in York. And then we’ll keep the solicitors out of it when we meet this American in London!”
    â€œAnd our names are so very close!” Mary laughed. “How convenient!”
    â€œWhat are you two saying?” Jimmy demanded.
    â€œMarissa will take my place!” Mary explained happily.
    â€œNo, we can’t have Marissa marry some ancient old being for ourselves, Mary. We can’t,” he said. And he was firm.
    â€œI don’t have to marry him, Jimmy,” Marissa said calmly. “Just be a dutiful ward. Mary’s allowance will be released to me until her thirtieth birthday. And then Mary will receive her inheritance and everything will be fine.”
    â€œWill it?” Jimmy demanded, walking over to Marissa. “And what of you? Will you spend ten years of your life alone? What of love for yourself, Marissa? What happens when you meet the man who can give you all that your heart desires?”
    Marissa felt a coldness seal itself around her heart. “Jimmy—”
    â€œYou know nothing of love, as yet,” he interrupted her softly.
    â€œI know a great deal about hunger and death,” she reminded him. “If I can take care of Theo, then I will be fine. And, Mary willing, we can even provide a small school there so a few other children may escape. Jimmy, I will be fine!”
    Jimmy never was pleased with the plan. He fought it night and day. But Mary and Marissa had made up their minds, and the plan was put into action.
    When they received the first correspondence from old Ian Tremayne—a short, curt missive to inform Mary when he would be coming—they were ready with their reply. Mary and Marissa composed it together, and Marissa wrote out the note in her flowing script. They had decided it would be necessary for Mr. Tremayne to become accustomed to Marissa’s writing. Miss Katherine Ahearn fully understood the conditions of her father’s will and was ready to abide by them upon her guardian’s arrival.
    The solicitors were informed that Miss Ahearn would abide by all her father’s wishes, and Marissa and Mary learned that it wasn’t necessary for Mary to sign papers—only Ian Tremayne’s signature was necessary to release her funds. Mr. Tremayne already had her funds in his trust, and all other papers.
    The solicitors indicated that they were more