Chapter 1
There may be a rare occasion when a young lady is wrong, but a gentleman must never resort to pointing out that fact to her.
A PROPER GENTLEMAN’S GUIDE TO WOOING THE PERFECT LADY
SIR VINCENT TYBALT VALENTINE
Through a hazy drizzle, the stately, two-story house came into view. Sloane Knox, the Duke of Hawksthorn, stopped at the top of a rocky knoll. It was already late in the day. On such a dreary afternoon it would have been nice to see a welcoming light in one of the front windows, hear the warning bark of a dog—anything to keep the massive stone structure from looking so forlorn. The only visible sign of life was a barely discernible plume of grayish-white smoke ascending from a chimney top and quickly dissipating into the moist air.
Hawk had never been a patient man, and today had stretched his limit further than he thought possible. That his current situation was his own impulsive fault didn’t help his grumbling spirit. On this cold but bright February day, he’d thought to save time and make the journey faster by leaving his carriage behind and leasing a horse from the inn where he’d lodged for the night. Now, several hours later, not only had the horse gone lame so that Hawk had to walk the poor creature, but the directions he’d been given to Mammoth House were severely wrong and he’d had to retrace his steps more than once. On top of that, a damned chilling rain had been falling on him for the last half hour.
However, if Mr. Quick accepted Hawk’s offer and agreed to make a match with Adele, it would all be worth it. Hawk’s search for the right man had not been impulsive. Quick was the nephew of an earl, more than average height, and even though Hawk considered him on the lean side, he assumed most young ladies would consider the man handsome enough. And the fellow seemed to always have a smile on his face and a bounce to his step.
What more could his sister want in a husband?
Still confident his plan for Adele was a good one, Hawk hunkered further down into his cloak and continued his slow trek toward the house, leading the limping horse behind him.
After all the trouble his friend Griffin had gone through with his sisters last year, Hawk wasn’t going to take any chances with Adele’s future. He wasn’t one to stand around and wait for something to happen. He was taking matters into his own hands. And as he’d hoped, his sister had agreed.
The Season was still more than two months away and already Miss Honora Truth’s Scandal Sheet was fueling gossipmongers all over London about Adele’s debut in the spring. What the tittle-tattle writers didn’t know was that Hawk intended to have his sister’s betrothal already settled before the first dance of the Season began. That would fool them all, and there would be no opportunities for mischief from anyone who might be seeking to exact revenge on Hawk by pursuing his sister with less-than-honorable intentions.
A gust of icy wind whipped across Hawk’s face as he tethered the animal to the hitching post and then strode up the three steps to the door. Knowing someone from inside the house could send a groom to take care of the mare, he rapped the iron knocker before peeling off his damp leather gloves and stuffing them into his pocket.
After a few moments, the door opened slowly. A round-cheeked woman’s face appeared. “May I help you, sir?”
“I’m the Duke of Hawksthorn,” he stated. “Mr. Quick is expecting me.”
With dark, distrusting eyes, she looked him up and down as if she couldn’t believe a duke was standing before her wearing a drenched cloak and a dripping hat. She then perused the landscape past him, no doubt wondering where his carriage and entourage were hiding.
“I am alone,” he added, removing his hat and dusting off the excess rain.
“You’d best come warm yourself by the fire,” she said.
That would be most welcome, he thought, swinging his cloak from his shoulders and giving it a good shake.
The woman opened the door and stepped back, giving the customary curtsy to Hawk as he passed the threshold and into the spacious, cavernous vestibule. It must have been a grand entrance at one time, but now it was hardly more than a large empty room. A worn settee was backed against one wall. Opposite the small sofa stood an ornately carved table with an unlit lamp sitting on one end and an unused candlestick on the other. He couldn’t help but think the inside of the house looked as forsaken as the outside, but then he caught the aroma of bread baking in an oven and knew this was a lived-in home.
He handed off his cloak and hat to the short, rotund woman with a ruffle-edged mobcap covering her hair. She laid them on the table and said, “Follow me.”
She preceded him down the wide corridor and into a drawing room that was furnished only a little better than the vestibule. Two floral-patterned settees faced each other in the center of the room, and a table barely large enough for a tea tray had been placed between the two. Matching armchairs upholstered in a brown-and-gold-striped fabric were arranged near the fireplace. Against the far wall by a window stood a highly polished secretary and chair. Little else filled the drafty room.
“Wait here,” the woman said and left.
Hawk walked over to the fireplace. The flame was hardly more than a few sizzling embers, and while the heat immediately warmed him, it would do little to help dry out his boots or wet collar and neckcloth. Kneeling down, he grabbed the poker and stoked the fire before adding wood to the grate.
“Your Grace.”
At the sound of the soft feminine voice, Hawk rose to his full height and turned. A tall, slender young lady was standing near the entrance to the room. She curtsied when their eyes met. She looked pure, sweet, and completely untouched by masculine hands. A sudden, deep rush of desire flamed through him, and the rhythm of his heartbeat changed.
She wore a modest dress of pale-blue wool, void of bows, lace, or any of the embellishments usually sewn on to enhance the common fabric. No jewelry hung around her neck or dangled from her ears. Her light-blond hair was pulled up on each side, but he couldn’t see how far down her back it hung, or if there were satin ribbons or fancy combs to hold it in place. What struck him instantly about her was that he’d never seen such a beautiful young lady so unadorned by frivolous accessories meant to enhance her beauty.
“I am Loretta Quick, Your Grace. How can I help you?”
Mr. Quick’s younger sister. It should have dawned on Hawk that he might see her, but quite frankly it hadn’t. He’d been too caught up thinking only about his own sister. He knew Miss Quick’s story, of course. Everyone in Society did. As he studied her lovely face, he was certain they’d never met. He would have remembered those dark-blue eyes that seemed so steady, yet wary. He would have remembered the strong surge of sensual awareness that seared through him at the sight of her.
“Miss Quick,” he said with a nod. “I’m here to see your brother.”
Her slightly arched brows furrowed with an uneasy expression, and she took a tentative step toward him. “Is something wrong?”
He thought that an odd question for her to ask but answered, “With what?”
“With my brother.”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Her gaze continued to search his face as if surely he must be hiding something from her. “So he’s not in any trouble?”
That comment gave him cause for concern. Perhaps there was something about the man Hawk didn’t know. “Does he often get into trouble?”
“Often?” she asked, clearly dismayed by his question. “No, of course not. Not at all really. Why would you ask that?”
“Because you asked me if he were.”
As if taking note of the slight accusation in his tone, her spine stiffened. “It was a logical question to ask.”
“How so, if you say he never gets in trouble?”
“What else am I supposed to think?” she asked innocently.
“Perhaps that I wanted to talk to your brother, which I do.”
She let out a deep audible breath and took another step farther into the drawing room. “So there are no problems?”
Hawk shook his head in exasperation. “I just said as much. You are frustrating me, Miss Quick.”
“And you are the pot calling the kettle black, Your Grace,” she said defensively.
Another prickle of awareness rushed through him. It was rare anyone had the nerve to speak their mind so quickly and candidly to a duke. It surprised him, but it also impressed him. “That’s a rather rash statement.”
He watched her softly rounded shoulders relax a little. “Nonetheless, true. You are the one making this conversation difficult.”
“Me?” She was unbelievable. “Does your boldness have no boundaries, Miss Quick?”
“Not where my brother is concerned. But aside from that, what am I supposed to think other than something is wrong when a duke arrives unexpectedly to see my brother.”
Unexpectedly? More reason for him to worry.
“We live a little too far from Hawksthorn for a social call, Your Grace,” she added as if to give credence to her statement.
Hawk could easily attest to that fact. When he’d started this venture, he had no idea that Mammoth House was so far from the village of Grimsfield and still another half day’s ride from London. He had doubts that even a hermit would embrace a place this far from civilization. Living out here took being alone to an extreme.
As the nephew of the Earl of Switchingham, Quick was a socially acceptable husband for Adele. Quick always wore a friendly smile and kept a cheerful attitude, which might become obnoxious to Hawk if he had to spend a good deal of time with the man, but he thought Adele would love it.
While Hawk had no idea what kind of allowance the earl had bestowed on Quick, it really didn’t matter. Adele had a generous dowry and, once she married, she’d have access to a home in London as well. She wouldn’t have to reside in Mammoth House if she preferred not to, which he was fairly certain would be the case.
With graceful movements, Miss Quick walked the rest of the way into the room to stand in front of him. He could see clearly the tempting shape of her inviting lips and her smooth, delicate-looking complexion, which enticed him to want to reach up and caress her cheek with the tips of his fingers. She had uncommonly long, dark lashes for someone with hair so satiny blond. Her eyes were so expressive he found it difficult to focus on the matter at hand.
Ah, yes. It would be easy to concentrate on the intriguing miss, if not for the important issue before him.
“I don’t believe I’m unexpected.”
“You must be,” she answered without the least bit of hesitancy or caution that she might be wrong.
More impertinence.
“I have an appointment with him, Miss Quick.”
“But Paxton isn’t here.”
Hawk’s jaw tightened. He’d just walked for the better part of half a day on cold, rough, uneven ground, and was chilled to the bone for most of it. He was in no temperament to hear that her brother wasn’t home. Perhaps Hawk had misjudged the man after all and should go on to one of the other gentlemen he’d considered for Adele’s future.
“I know I’m late by a few hours because of unavoidable circumstances, but I would have assumed that he’d wait for my arrival before taking his leave.”
Curiosity settled on her delicate features. “Your words puzzle me. I’m certain if Paxton had an arrangement with you he would be here. He’s very reliable.”
Apparently not.
The fire he’d stirred had caught hot and was warming the backs of his legs. The beautiful and outspoken Miss Quick was warming his temperament.
Hawk wasn’t used to explaining himself, but felt compelled to say, “I sent him a post last week stating I’d be here today to discuss an important matter with him.”
Her countenance went from inquisitive to affable. “Ah, therein lies the source of your problem.”
“My problem?” She just wouldn’t give up.
“Yes.” She folded her arms across her chest in a comfortable pose and nodded. “Paxton has been gone almost three weeks. We only receive mail once a week, when Mr. Huddleston takes the carriage into the village for purchases. Paxton has had correspondence arrive but, of course, I don’t open his private letters.”
A few words that were not appropriate for Miss Quick’s ears tumbled to the tip of Hawk’s tongue, but he held them silent. What were the odds this would happen? He’d come all this way to the middle of nowhere and Quick was gone. That was damned inconvenient. Still, Hawk was a fair person. If Quick had never received his post, he supposed he couldn’t fault the man for not being here to meet with him.
“Perhaps all is not lost,” she said, lifting her chin and looking more solidly into his eyes. “Maybe I can help with whatever it is you wanted with Paxton.”
“That would be unlikely, Miss Quick.”
She dropped her arms by her side and assumed an air of authority. “I am quite capable of handling many things, Your Grace, and take care of most things here at Mammoth House.”
He wasn’t indifferent to her assertion. He believed her. She was strong and seductive, and he hadn’t seen an ounce of fear in her. But neither her abilities nor her appeal had any bearing on his mission. He’d be damned before he’d let her admirable qualities let him stray from that.
“That I don’t doubt in the least. Yet it is your brother I came to see. Where is he?”
Undaunted by his determination, she responded casually, “Paxton doesn’t make me privy to all his goings and comings. He has several friends that he visits with from time to time. Besides, I’m not certain I would divulge Paxton’s whereabouts even if I knew, when I don’t know the reason you want to see him.”
If she thought to discourage him, she was mistaken. If Hawk could arrange a betrothal for Adele before the Season began, her future would be settled. He wouldn’t have to worry about her falling victim to a prankster or any bachelor hoping to get even with him for his past misdeeds.
It wasn’t often he’d met an innocent who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. Perhaps he never had. And Miss Quick was a lively young lady to converse with, but they were not making much progress.
“Must you challenge me on every issue?”
She crossed her arms again. “When you aren’t forthcoming about your reasons, yes. Dukes are very powerful. It’s only natural for me to be concerned.”
Hawk wondered what made her so wary. “It’s not for nefarious purposes that I want to see him, I assure you. I have a proposition to make to him, and I’d rather do it sooner than later.”
She tilted her chin upward again. “Oh. Then you won’t mind if I ask what it is?”
Yes, actually, he did mind her asking. However, much to his chagrin, her imperious expression was more engaging than defiant. It took great courage to ask a duke what his business was with another man—even if she was asking about her own brother.
Hawk supposed there was no harm in telling her. If he did, it might speed up her telling him the whereabouts of her brother so he could get on with the matter of getting this business settled as quickly as possible. He wanted to find Adele a suitable husband and then get back to doing some of the things he wanted to do. Hawk was fairly certain Quick hadn’t been in London the past week. He would have seen the blade at White’s.
“Very well,” he offered. “My sister will be making her debut this spring, and I’d very much like to arrange a betrothal between her and your brother before the Season starts.”
Miss Quick went very still. “Surely you must know that arranged engagements don’t end very well in this family.”
There was no malice in her tone, just a statement of fact. Hawk summoned what he remembered about her and wondered how much of it was rumor and how much was true. The Earl of Switchingham had arranged for her to marry Viscount Denningcourt. Apparently, all the guests and the viscount had arrived at the church for the ceremony, but the bride never made an appearance.
Her uncle took a very harsh view of her rejecting his choice of husbands for her. If the rumors were true, she had vowed to never marry. The betrothal was broken and shortly thereafter the viscount married a different young lady. As far as Hawk knew, Miss Quick hadn’t been seen in Society since.
“I heard,” he said, “but I aim to change that. I’ve put a good deal of thought into this, Miss Quick, and your brother is the husband I want for Adele. I’ve never seen him too deep in his cups, and he never gambles more than a handful of dollars at the tables. I’ve never heard a harsh rumor about him at White’s; nor have I heard Mr. Quick complain about anyone else. By all accounts he’s a fine gentleman who prefers books over swords, poetry over carousing, and tea over brandy.”
A soft, sweet smile came easily to her lips and she politely said, “In other words, he’s nothing like the man you are.”
She was even more incredibly daring than he first thought. To talk so freely and challengingly to a duke, and not be the least bit intimidated about how he might react, was astonishing. And to top off that, she managed to take him to task without being petulant about it. She had good reason to give him that satisfied smile.
Hawk grunted a laugh. “You go right for the throat, don’t you, Miss Quick?”
“I’d rather think of it as going directly to the heart of the matter, Your Grace.”
“Either way, you have unquestionable courage.”
“And you have undoubtable arrogance to think you can come here and expect my brother to simply accept your bidding and take your sister to be his bride.”
He met her confident stare. “In a word, yes.”
She didn’t waver. “You will not win me over on this issue, Your Grace. I will counsel him against such an alliance.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
“And it doesn’t surprise me that once again I have a peer standing before me who is trying to arrange a marriage between two people who don’t know each other.”
“Tell me, do you have something against my sister?”
“Of course not. I haven’t met her.”
“Maybe you are just against your brother marrying a young lady who is lovely, clever, and brings a generous dowry with her.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, fending off his allegation without hesitation.
“Then perhaps you are simply against him marrying.”
“You are wrong again,” she said pragmatically. “I am for my brother making his own decision about who he will marry with no one else’s interference. And quite frankly, Your Grace, I find all this talk of marriage beyond the pale. My brother has only just passed his twenty-fourth birthday.”
“I am aware of his age, Miss Quick.”
“Yet you seek him out to be a husband?” she argued. “What would you have said if someone had mentioned an arrangement of marriage to you at such a young age?”
When Hawk was twenty-four, he wasn’t too far removed from the Rakes of St. James secret admirer scandal. “No one would have dared to suggest marriage to me, I assure you.”
Raising her eyebrows as if sensing victory, she said, “Correct. And you should also know that Paxton probably hasn’t given marriage a thought, either.”
“That could very well be true, but there is nothing wrong with finding out if he might be tempted to at least meet Lady Adele. I would think that you would be pleased I thought highly enough of your brother to want him to marry my sister.”
She shilly-shallied. At last he’d said something she didn’t have a saucy retort for. Maybe they were now making progress.
“Of course, that I’m happy you think so flatteringly of Paxton goes without saying,” she finally admitted. “I have no doubt he would make your sister a fine husband.”
“You are not helping your case, Miss Quick, only furthering mine.”
“That is not my intention and you know it. I’m trying not to be completely disagreeable here. My brother does have much to recommend him, and I won’t deny that. But since you are pressing the issue, I will say what I was trying to avoid and spare you the truth.”
The muscles in Hawk’s shoulders and back tightened. “I need no sparing from anyone, Miss Quick,” he said through gritted teeth. “Especially from the truth.”
“Good. Though I’m not in Society now, I have been. And I have met the daughters and sisters of dukes. I found them to be demanding, selfish, and terribly overindulged. I expect Paxton will marry someone who is sweet, thoughtful of others, and more suitable to his happy, gentle disposition. Perhaps a vicar’s daughter.”
Hawk’s jaw hardened. Was she disparaging Adele? Now the bold miss had gone too far; for the first time, her tautly spoken words didn’t sit well with Hawk.
“A vicar’s daughter?” He repeated the phrase as though it were a curse. He took a menacing step toward Miss Quick. “Are you suggesting my sister isn’t good enough for your brother?”
She stood her ground. “I’m not suggesting anything about your sister particularly, but overall about what I’ve heard, read, and observed the short time I was Society. And I only add the kind of lady I would like to see Paxton marry. Now do you still think I am furthering your cause, Your Grace?”
Her back was straight and her head tilted defiantly. She spoke her mind fearlessly better than most of the men he knew. If Hawk’s sister were only half as strong-minded as Miss Quick, he wouldn’t be seeking a husband for her; she’d be looking for one herself.
It hadn’t been his choice for his sister to be his responsibility. His parents had been killed when a ship that was taking them to Portugal sank as it sailed into the harbor. He’d just come of age, so her guardianship had fallen to him. At the time, Hawk hadn’t even learned how to take care of himself. Drinking, gambling, and women were his priorities. Not young girls. He’d solicited the help of his widowed cousin, Minerva Philbert, who’d moved into Hawksthorn to watch after Adele.
Hawk relaxed his stance and said, “No, Miss Quick, I’d say you’ve made your case very plainly.”
“Good,” she said, seeming pleased with herself.
He gave her a knowing smile. “But you must know that the more you tell me you don’t want this to happen between our families, the more I intend to see that it does.”
She moistened her lips and seemed to think on his comment before saying, “Your idea is rubbish. What does Lady Adele think of you trying to control her life by picking her husband? I don’t know her but find it difficult to believe she’s delighted with that idea.”
“My sister agrees with me and knows I only want what’s best for her. She knows I wouldn’t force her to marry your brother or anyone else if she found him detestable.”
Miss Quick huffed a soft breath. “No one could find Paxton detestable. And I would be pleased for my brother to marry whomever he wishes, whenever he wishes. What I don’t want is him falling victim to a scoundrel duke like you waving money, position, and prestige in front of him for your own selfish reasons.”
“You think I am doing this for me?” He took another step closer to Miss Quick. “My reasons are not for myself but for my sister. My only goal is to see to it she comes to no harm and makes a good match, and I make no excuses for putting her welfare above all else.”
“Nor I my brother’s.”
“So then we understand each other.”
“It appears we do. You will fight for Lady Adele and I will fight for Paxton. I didn’t save myself from an arranged marriage only to watch my brother walk blindly into one.”
“You don’t think much of your brother’s ability to take care of this himself, do you?”
“Nor you, your sister’s.”
Her defiance was commendable, but if she thought to frighten him away by her firm stand on this matter, she was mistaken. “Then the lines have been drawn and the battle has begun, Miss Quick.”
“So it seems.”
“Now, when do you expect your brother to return?”
“I really can’t say for sure,” she said with a slight lift to her chin. “Usually he’s only gone a couple of weeks, but this time it’s been longer. That’s why when you first arrived I thought you might be bringing news of him. So yes, I expect he should return in a day or two.”
“But you have no reason to think he won’t be back by the end of next week.”
Reluctantly, she answered, “No.” Then she quickly added, “He’ll be sorry to have missed you. Now, may I get you something to eat or drink? Or perhaps you’d just like to warm yourself by the fire a little longer before you take your leave.”
Hawk’s primal instinct rose. She was dismissing him. Treating him as if she had the rank of duke instead of him. And while it amazed him she had the audacity to do it, it also irritated the devil out of him. She had more mettle than any other lady he’d met. He couldn’t let her pluck stand without redress. While she might be anxious to be rid of him, he wasn’t in a hurry to depart from her.
“A glass of port, wine, or brandy would be welcomed.” He looked around the sparsely furnished room. “If you have it.”
A twitch of a smile played at the edges of her mouth, and Hawk found it downright enchanting. He hoped the faint amusement on her lips was because she knew he was delaying his departure just to irritate her. If so, good.
“Paxton always has a bottle of something available.”
She turned away, and the tug of arousal tightened Hawk’s lower body again. Waves of rich, shimmering blond hair that looked as if it could have been spun from moonlight cascaded down her back. For a moment, he envisioned her sitting astride him with all those glorious tresses falling delicately around her bare shoulders, and tickling his chest as she bent to kiss him.
Miss Quick glanced back at him and her gaze caught his, stare for stare. Hawk had little doubt Miss Quick suspected in her innocent way what he’d been thinking, but, more important, at that moment he saw that she was attracted to him, too.
“It’s brandy,” she said softly, opening one of the compartments on the secretary and pulling out a tray with glasses and a decanter on it.
“That’s fine,” he answered.
He watched her. Her movements were confident but refined as she took the top off the decanter and poured a generous splash into the glass.
Without taking her attention off him, she walked over and extended the drink to him. “There isn’t much daylight left.”
So this was to be a test of her courage and his resolve. She was still trying to get rid of him. It was admirable. And it was probably best if he did go soon, but … the rogue in him couldn’t bend to her wishes.
He took the glass. “It’s still raining.”
She glanced out the window, too. “So it is. Please, do sit down and enjoy your drink and the fire for a while.”
And your company.
“It will be my pleasure, Miss Quick, but first I must ask a favor. My horse stepped in a hole and can’t be ridden. When I leave, I will have to ask to borrow one of yours to ride back to the village.”
“Oh, my.” Her fan-shaped brows lifted. “I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.”
He smiled. She even had to take him to task over the use of one of her horses. “I’ll see that it’s returned, Miss Quick.”
“I have no doubt of that, Your Grace.” She glanced out the window again and worried her bottom lip for a few seconds. Concern was back in her expression when she faced him again.
“Is there a problem?”
“Yes. I would be more than happy to lend you a mount so that you can take your leave, if I had one. We have only four at Mammoth House. My brother and his valet are away on two of them and Mr. Huddleston and his helper have the other two. They left this morning for their weekly visit to Grimsfield for supplies. It’s quite a distance, as you no doubt know, so they always stay overnight with Mr. Huddleston’s brother. They aren’t expected back until tomorrow.”
“Only four horses on an estate this size?” That was unimaginable.
“There’s no need for more, as we lead a simple life here at Mammoth House.”
“That’s a bit too simple as far as I’m concerned,” he said irritably. “Does the earl know of this?”
“My uncle is very generous to allow my brother and me to live in such a grand home with servants to care for our needs.”
So it was the Earl of Switchingham who had Miss Quick and her brother living in the middle of this vast valley with nothing surrounding it and few creature comforts. He should have guessed.
“So then, I’m to assume there is no one at the stable to care for my horse outside.”
Her shoulders lifted. “I’m quite capable of doing that for you, Your Grace.”
He grunted. What did she take him for? A pampered ninny? She was by far the most direct and unpretentious young lady he’d ever met.
“No, Miss Quick, you are not. I will not see the day I’ll allow a female to care for my horse.”
“As you wish.” He watched as she swallowed hard, hesitating more than once before finally saying, “So then, unless you intend to walk back to the village, I’ll have to offer you a bed for the night.”
A slow roll of enticement started in Hawk’s throat and rumbled down to his chest and into his lower stomach. Anticipation had his heartbeat thundering in his chest. Even though her words were soft, breathy, and oh so sensual to his ears, he knew she hadn’t meant her invitation the way his body responded to it.
Her expression was apprehensive. Her dark-blue eyes questioned him. How would he answer?
She not only provoked every one of his senses, but also heated his desire and stimulated his mind. She was truly lovely, tempting, and undeniably innocent. Those things made for a powerful combination, and his body was letting him know in no uncertain way that he wanted her with an intensity that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
If ever.
He should offer to bed down in the stable. A true gentleman would and not leave the virtuous Miss Quick open to any hint of scandal. But the cold, damp stable was as appealing as a sickbed, and the last place Hawk wanted to stay this night.
So should he do the right thing, be a gentleman and stay in the stable, or—as he had so often done in the past—do the wrong thing and continue to be a rake?
Copyright © 2017 by Amelia Grey
