Page 1 of A Raven Reformed

ChapterOne

“This is Miss Hattigan?” They were the only words Michael could manage through his shock.

“That’s her.” The solicitor cleared his throat nervously.

“Miss Annabelle Hattigan?”

“Yes, sir— my lord. I apologize. Living here, one is not accustomed to…”

The man’s words faded away as Michael gazed down at the young girl asleep in the crib. Ringlets of dark hair fanned out around her head and across her face, her thumb was resting limply in her open mouth, and her knees were tucked up under her chest pushing her little bottom into the air. He pressed the heels of his hands harshly against his forehead, a disbelieving groan escaping him. How in god’s name had he agreed to marry a toddler?

He’d known the girl was not yet of age, her father had said as much in his letter, but he’d thought perhaps she was fifteen. And now her father was dead, which made her his responsibility. Jesus, what had he gotten himself into?

After a few minutes, Michael left the nursery and found Carlyle in Mr. Hattigan’s study. Well, technically, it was his study now.

“Drink?” The man held out a glass of amber liquid which Michael gladly took. Just as it reached his lips, however, he stopped. He lowered the glass slowly and set it on the desk.

“I probably shouldn’t, actually. Too much drink is undoubtedly what landed me in this mess. And what a fine mess it is.” He shook his head and wandered toward the fireplace.

“You don’t mean to say you were unaware of the girl’s age?”

Michael turned and raised a brow at the solicitor. “I may have made a few bad decisions in my life, but knowingly betrothing myself to a three-year-old child was not one of them.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you—” The man paused, and as understanding of his accusation dawned, Michael’s blood boiled. The man thought him capable of inappropriate relations with a child? His hands balled themselves into fists, but he spoke quietly.

“You did not mean to imply what, exactly?”

“Well, Mr. Hattigan made no secret of the fact that he was dying. I just assumed whoever had signed the contract knew they would soon have full control of the child to do with as they pleased.”

Michael crossed the room in three strides. In the man’s haste to get away, the glass tumbled from his hand, spilling the rest of its contents over the carpet. Michael grabbed the lapels of his coat and backed him forcefully against the desk. His own glass and an inkwell were jarred from its surface, adding their contributions to the mess on the rug. “How dare you accuse me of such lecherous depravity! She is barely more than a baby!”

To Michael’s surprise, the man began to smile.

“I’m sorry, my lord. I mean no offense. It was clear from your reaction to seeing her, that you’d no idea of the girl’s age, but I had to be sure.”

“You were testing me?” Michael slowly let go of the man’s lapels and took a step back, his anger still barely contained.

“Mr. Hattigan assured me you were a good man, but little Miss Hattigan is precious to me… to all of us, you see.”

“Mr. Hattigan and I had never met. How could he possibly have known anything of my character?”

“Trust me, my lord, the history of your family, finances, health, and character were all thoroughly scrutinized before your name was added to the list.”

“The list?” Of course there must have been others. Michael certainly wasn’t special. He’d only recently inherited the title and spent most of his time deep in his cups. For some reason, this poor girl’s father had tied her to him for the rest of her life.

“Does that mean I wasn’t his first choice?” Perhaps he was the only man on the list foolish enough to say yes.

“I’m afraid I’m not privy to that information, my lord.”

Michael just shook his head. What did it matter? He had already spent most of the first installment making much needed repairs to his estate, and even now, had plans for the next. A spate of bad luck with death taxes, catastrophes, and swindlers, topped off by a grandfather who had lived to gamble, even if he always lost, had left the earldom in tatters.

He would have to marry and produce an heir eventually. This way, the match was already decided, with none of the usual fuss, and he had the next fifteen years to enjoy his life before he’d actually be shackled to her. For now, he would board the next boat back to England and forget about his future wife until she was old enough to actually be his wife.

* * *

Fifteen Years Later

“Isaac!” Belle ran across the field and threw herself into his arms. He laughed and swung her around.

---