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certain must have some validity, would have appealed to him. I have no qualms about assuming his identity to get my hands on his bride’s fortune. All I want is what is due me. I will give her the house and land, she can call herself a baroness, a countess, or a queen for all I care. But this woman is my last hope of getting the money I need. I shall use her in any way I choose, Carpenter. Any way.”
    Hollins understood the implication behind Lark’s words. “Not in that way, my lord.”
    “Don’t cross me,” Lark warned. “The sooner she signs the papers, the sooner I’ll be on my way and you can explain to her ladyship that I coerced you into deceiving her. Then you won’t need to tell her how you, her trusted solicitor, allowed her departed spouse to spend my inheritance with your knowledge. If she were to somehow learn the truth, it might cause her to find someone more trustworthy to look after her fortune. I’m certain you’d miss your large retainer fee. Are we in agreement, Carpenter?”
    “Yes, my lord,” he answered stiffly and was sufficiently moved by Lark’s threat not to argue further. “Is there anything else?”
    Lark retreated to lean against the edge of the desk. “Inform Mrs. Mort of our plans. I expect you can force the woman to keep her mouth shut during the time I am in residence. Tell her not to admit any unexpected visitors, also.”
    “Mrs. Mort is getting on in years and fears losing her post, my lord. She’ll do as I ask.”
    Lark gave a curt nod and started for the door, intent upon going upstairs to rest. “Good, Carpenter. Do whatever you must to gain her silence.”
    “I trust the outcome of so much deception shall not result in a hollow victory for you, my lord.”
    Carpenter’s words caused Lark to pause. He managed a thin smile that barely warmed his eyes. “At this stage of my life, any victory is welcomed.”

CHAPTER
THREE

    As the carriage precariously climbed the steep hill upon which Marlee’s new home sat, a vicious wind blew in from the ocean. Swirling, purple clouds dipped low from the sky to threateningly graze the four-corner towers of the gray stone manor house.
    With the imminent storm and the restless wind stirring the unkempt grounds, Arden Manor resembled a once elegant and wealthy woman reduced to an ugly, begging hag. Large pieces of mortar had broken from the roofline and a chimney looked ready to topple. Marlee noticed a window in one of the towers was broken. The overall impression was one of neglect.
    “Oh, my,” Barbara voiced Marlee’s own thoughts and craned her neck from the carriage window to get a better view. “This isn’t what I expected.” She managed an encouraging smile. “Perhaps the interior makes up for the facade.”
    “I assume the inside will be as horrible to behold,” Marlee responded with more than a hint of disgust in her tone. To think that Lord Arden’s excessive vices had caused the house’s ruination angered her. Apparently, he possessed little pride to allow this to happen to a once grand and gracious home.
    “Be thankful Daphne caught a cold and Mother stayed home to nurse her. I can just imagine what their comments would be.”
    Marlee nodded, indeed grateful that only Barbara had accompanied her. She didn’t think she could have endured Clementina’s sour company or Daphne’s constant complaints for the long journey. As it was, she was apprehensive about meeting Lord Richard Arden, and more than a little frightened to imagine what he’d think of her. She’d written to Mr. Carpenter over a week ago to inform her husband of her imminent arrival. She also felt certain that Arden’s palms were itching in anticipation to control her fortune.
    Seeing the poor condition of the manor, Marlee now knew she’d turn her fortune over to her husband. She aimed to restore it to its former glory, confident her money was all that was needed, but she’d be damned if a notorious rogue like Richard Arden would do her out