The Last Heiress Read Online Free PDF

fine widower with but one little boy who would gladly have her to wife. He does not think now is the time to ask her. He’s a better match for her, I can tell you.”
    “It’s Ned, the blacksmith, isn’t it?” Elizabeth said, grinning.
    “Now you just mind your beeswax, Mistress Elizabeth,” Maybel said sternly.
    “It’s Ned,” Elizabeth replied, turning to her uncle and Will Smythe.
    “He lost his wife almost a year ago in childbirth. One of his married sisters is nursing his son along with her child. So he likes young Nancy, does he? Does she know?”
    “Of course she knows, but she’s so set on bemoaning her loss of the  shepherd she can’t be bothered. I’ve trained her myself to be a lady’s maid for the day when you should need one, Mistress Elizabeth. As I said, she’s good with hair, and she is clever with her needle.”
    “Is she pleasant?” Lord Cambridge asked.
    “Sweet as honey is Nancy, but not as wise as she ought to be,” Maybel answered him frankly. “She’s just what Mistress Elizabeth needs, and is looking forward to serving her. Now shall I tell her it’s time to begin her service?”
    Elizabeth turned to her uncle. “What think you?”
    “It is still some weeks before we must leave,” Thomas Bolton said.
    “It is probably wise for the girl to begin serving you now so you may both get used to each other. You must have a woman servant, dear girl.
    All fine ladies do.”
    Elizabeth looked to Maybel. “Tell Nancy I’ll have her then,” she said to the older woman. “But she must have her own chamber. I will have no one sleeping in my room, and particularly not at the foot of my bed on a trundle.”
    “ ’Tis no problem here, although it may be on the road, my child,”  Maybel said.
    “There are more fine inns now, Maybel, than in the days you went to court with Rosamund,” Lord Cambridge said. “I shall send ahead before we depart, and book our accommodations. There may be a time, Elizabeth, when you and Nancy will share a bed, but I shall try to avoid it for your sake, dear girl. And, of course, in my houses there will be no difficulty.” He smiled broadly. “Just a few more weeks and we shall begin our adventure, my pet. Your wardrobe is almost finished, and you will take the court by storm with your fair beauty.”
    “I am not beautiful, Uncle,” Elizabeth replied.
    Lord Cambridge looked startled by her words. “Not beautiful?” he cried, his hand going to his heart. “My darling Elizabeth Julia Anne Meredith! Why, you are the loveliest of Rosamund’s three daughters with your pale golden hair and hazel-green eyes. Such coloring is quite unique at the court. My hope for you is that your beauty will overcome any prejudice toward your northern estates. Your features are even, your teeth are white, and your breath sweet. You will be very sought after, for you are indeed beautiful, Elizabeth.”
    “Beauty fades, Uncle. What is in one’s heart is more important,”  she told him.
    He nodded. “Aye,” he agreed. “But before any may know your heart, dear girl, they will be ravished first by your beauty.”
    Elizabeth laughed. “And then they will be very surprised, won’t they, when I don’t simper and blush?”
    “Simpering is for ninnies,” he told her. “You are not a ninny.”
    “Nay, I am not,” Elizabeth replied.
    In late February a great snowstorm came down from the far north, lasting several long days and nights. The evening before it began there came a hammering on the door of the manor house. The little maidservant opening the portal jumped back with a small scream, for standing in the open doorway was a tall, muffled figure who pushed inside, stamping his boots free of dirt and shaking his cape out with a grunt.
    “I’ve a message for the lady of Friarsgate,” he finally managed to say.
    “Come into the hall, sir,” the little servant said, ushering him inside. When they entered the hall the young girl called out, “A messenger for