For his three older half-sisters, also left parentless, though they were well into their late teens and early twenties when Father passed. For his father who perished of fever scarcely two short months later, brought on by a broken heart. Pierce could almost hear his gentle mother’s musical voice chastising him for his cruelty.įor the small child who held his dying mother in his skinny arms, begging her not to leave him. What about his cousin, Pritam, my son? She’s done you no harm. The baron deserved every misfortune directed his way. Not a qualm or jot of hesitation muddled Pierce’s resolve. He would be blacklisted from the beau monde’s elite assemblies he so admired, unable to purchase something as economical as a piece of straw on credit. A scandal would tip him over that fragile edge into ignominy. At present, he hovered on Polite Society’s most outer fringes. Not even a pot to piss in, as Pierce’s former sailor-turned-manservant, Popplewell, was wont to quote.įailure to honor his gambling debts meant complete disgrace for Fairfax. Nonetheless, he intended to leave the man with nothing. Pierce had no interest in the baron’s estates, nor in his few head of livestock. His man would be explaining that glaring-lovely-oversight on the morrow. And Pierce loathed being on the receiving end of surprises.
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