Prologue
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Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labor.
For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow:
but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.
Again, if two lie together, then they have heat: but how can on
e be warm alone?
And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him;
and a threefold cord is not quickly broken.
— Hebrew Bible, Ecclesiastes 4:9-12
Knightsguild School for Gentlemen January 1794
"Our Father who art in heaven, thank you for this horrid hell-hole of a school and for old Norworthy who runs it. Thank you for the canings and for the forfeiture of the puddings I've suffered since I came here. Thank you for the Marquess and Marchioness of Shepherdston, my father and mother, who've never agreed upon anything except that I am, as my father's heir, a necessity, about which something must be done so that they need not be bothered overmuch by my presence. And thank you ever so much for giving Esme Kelverton's father the power to break the betrothal between Esme and Colin. I know his doing so broke Colin's heart, but if Lord Kelverton had not taken such a drastic measure, I would not have discovered Colin crying and he would not have punched me in the nose and called me a 'bloody, rich English lord who ought to mind his own business.'" And if Colin had not punched me in the nose, I would not have had to blacken his eye and Griffin would not have taken it upon himself to separate us and received a split lip for his efforts. The three of us would not have been sent to Norworthy or received a caning before the whole assembly. If these things had not happened, there would be no Free Fellows League and I would not have Colin and Griffin as my friends. The Free Fellows League is celebrating our first anniversary, so thank you, Heavenly Father, for providing me with friends — at last.
"And thank you, Father, for making me the oldest and for giving me a higher rank so that Colin and Griffin would naturally look to me for leadership — despite the fact that I am only nine months older, have no experience leading friends or companions of any sort, and would rather have a lower rank and parents who love me the way Lord and Lady Weymouth love Griffin and the way Lady McElreath, and when he's not gaming and drinking, Lord McElreath, love Colin. Guide me, Heavenly Father, and grant me the strength to always do what's right, to be the leader my brothers in blood expect me to be, to use the League so that we may become the greatest heroes England (and Scotland) have ever known and make it possible for good to always triumph over evil. Above all, please make it so that I never disappoint Colin or Griffin or cause them to regret choosing me to be their friend. Amen.
"Oh, and Heavenly Father, if you're still listening, thank you for Jonathan Manners who sleeps in the cot next to mine and cries for his nanny every night. I grumble about it. But I don't really mind. He's only seven so it's only natural for him to whine and fret. And I suppose it's only natural for him to plague me with his constant questions and by trying to tag along. Griffin and Colin are assigned to the other dormitory and although I try to comfort him, I am secretly thankful for Manners's wailing. His crying prevents me from feeling alone in the darkness. So, Heavenly Father, I'm not asking you to stop Manners from crying if that's what it takes for him to learn to endure life here at Knightsguild, but it will be quite all right by me if you'll let him know that while I don't want him hanging on to my coattails at every turn, I'll protect him from the monsters he fears are hiding under our cots. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, this is Jarrod Shepherdston saying thank you, good night, and amen."
* * *
Chapter One
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All is flux, nothing stays still.
— Heraclitus, c.540-c.480 B.C.
Village of Helford Green Bedfordshire, England May 1813
"Good-bye, Miss Eckersley. And you, Lady Dunbridge."
"Wait, please!" Sarah Eckersley stood with her aunt beside the front gate feverishly tugging on the drawstrings of her reticule as the Reverend Tinsley, his wife, and children bade them farewell.
The reverend pretended not to hear her as he waved good-bye, then shepherded his wife and children inside before resolutely closing the front door, shutting Sarah out.
"I forgot to give you the key…" Sarah withdrew the brass door key.
"Don't worry about it," Lady Dunbridge advised, fastening a leash on her little spaniel, Precious, as they walked to the front gate. "He may be a rector, but he doesn't appear to know that charity begins at home."
"We don't need their charity," Sarah said. "Nor do we need to be accused of stealing the front door key." She took a step forward. "I should go give it to them."
"After the way they treated you?" Sarah's aunt was outraged. "After the way they shoved our belongings onto the front lawn? And tried to steal Precious? And Budgie. Hang it on the gate," she suggested. "They'll find it."
Sarah hesitated. "Someone else might find it first."
"So what?" Lady Dunbridge dismissed her niece's concern. "It isn't as if anyone in Helford Green locks their doors anyway. Unless a desperate highwayman or a gang of sneak thieves finds its way here, you can be certain the reverend and his family will be safe. Callous, but safe."
"I've never seen anyone get so angry so quickly," Sarah said. "Certainly not a man of the cloth. I don't know how you managed to calm him. He appeared almost pleasant by the time I arrived with Squire Perkins."
"The only reason I was able to calm him was because I told him you would be returning with your father's close friend the magistrate, who wouldn't tolerate your mistreatment by anyone," Lady Dunbridge explained, patiently waiting while Precious squatted beside the wrought-iron fence.
"His pleasant demeanor was merely an act for Squire Perkins's benefit," Sarah concluded.
"Precisely."
"Then I don't suppose it will matter if I do leave the front door key hanging on the front gate." Ignoring a lifetime of her father's sermons about the meek inheriting the earth and turning the other cheek, Sarah took a deep breath and hung the brass key on the center point of the wrought-iron gate. "Besides, what self-respecting thief would bother with a rectory when Shepherdston Hall is just down the way?"
"My point exactly," Lady Dunbridge agreed.
The sleepy little village of Helford Green was three miles off the main road. Sarah had never heard of any type of crime in the community and she doubted the rectory would present much of a target for would-be thieves. Not when magnificent Shepherdston Hall sat between the village and the main road.
Sarah smiled for the first time since Reverend Tinsley and his family had arrived at the rectory without warning, entering the front door and descending like biblical locusts, where they immediately began laying claim to the things they wanted and casting aside everything they didn't without regard to the rectory's current residents.
Sarah had watched in horror as one of the Tinsley daughters shot past her. Precious, Aunt Etta's little spaniel, began to bark as the little girl ran past her basket, through the parlor, and up the stairs where she headed for Sarah's bedroom.
"Pippa, you mustn't run up the stairs," her mother had scolded.
But Pippa already had.
Sarah bounded up the stairs after her with the child's mother close on her heels. They arrived just as the little girl announced, "This shall be my room," and grabbed hold of Budgie's cage, pulling it off the stand before exclaiming, "Oh, look, Mama, what a darling little bird! I believe I shall keep him and name him Admiral Nelson."
Sarah hadn't realized how ferocious she could be until she'd snatched the birdcage out of the child's hand and held it out of reach. "I believe he already has a name and an owner. His name is Budgie and he belongs to me."
"Does not," the child insisted, reaching for the birdcage. "Mama says the land and the rectory and everything in it is ours. Admiral Nelson is mine!"
"Your mother is in error," Sarah said firmly, meeting the mother's gaze over the child's head.
"Make her give me Admiral Nelson!" the child screeched at the top of her lungs. "He's mine! I want him!"