SIXTY-FIVE

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THREE WEEKS LATER, Ford paced Lakefield House, satisfied with the progress of the renovations. Not that everything was complete—even with an army of skilled laborers, there was only so much one could accomplish in three weeks. But the roof was sound, and the exterior was a gleaming white. The garden had been cleared, and if it couldn’t yet rival the lush beauty of Trentingham, at least it was tidy.

Ford could easily find his sundial now. A quick glance told him it was nearly noon—nearly time for Violet to arrive.

He felt as though he’d waited his entire life for this moment. Thanks to the sale of Secrets of the Emerald Tablet, Lakefield shone not only in ways that showed, but behind the scenes. The latest farming implements were on order, and tenants were moving into the newly refinished cottages. The estate hummed with productive energy and the promise of more to come. The threat of foreclosure was behind him, and despite spending a prodigious amount of money to accomplish his goals, he had enough funds remaining to live well for a few months until Lakefield started producing the respectable income it should.

He’d been surprised to discover he didn’t mind the labors of a landowner, either. It seemed to him that striving to improve a theory or technology was not so very different from improving the land. Both required experimentation, innovation, and highly specialized knowledge—the last of which Ford was currently acquiring from a very patient Lord Trentingham. He’d never been given to think of agriculture as a science, but he was finding it every bit as complex and fascinating as the other branches. Perhaps someday he’d propose a lecture on the subject to the Royal Society.

Ford knew now, beyond any doubt, that selling the book had been the right decision—and, perhaps for the first time in his life, the responsible decision. He no longer faced the months and years ahead with dread, but rather with anticipation of watching his efforts and investments pay off.

While he wouldn’t be renowned for bringing the Philosopher’s Stone to the world, Violet meant the world to him, anyway. If he could only see that look of approval return to her eyes, he’d know her love for him had endured.

He’d know all his sacrifices had been worth it.

His stomach knotted at the sight of an approaching carriage.

Here was his moment of truth.

He’d done right by Lakefield and all its people. He’d secured a future for his tenants and his children, and his own future along with it.

But if Violet refused to share it with him, it would be a bleak future indeed.