The news had hit Elizabeth like a ton of bricks, and she had since walked around dazed. Her uncle, Edmund Ashley, the man who had cared for her since her parents died in the wreck when she was ten, had suffered a massive stroke and passed on. She accepted the sentiments of those who turned out to pay tribute to the Earl, her eyes empty and hollow as she tried her best to be gracious. All she really wanted to do was curl up and cry. He was the last family she had left, as he had never married or had children of his own. The old castle that bore the Ashley family name would now be cold and empty without the sound of the Earl's deep laughter filling the air.
She slumped back in the chair in the office, as she waited for his attorney to enter and read his will. Her uncle hated it when she exhibited poor posture and often chastised her in an attempt to have her become more of a lady. She was proper in many respects. At 25, she had lived at the castle while she attended University, not wanting to leave her uncle on his own. She exuded her mother's maternal instincts in that respect, becoming his caregiver, although he had many servants to cook and clean for him. Staying at the castle also helped to keep her out of trouble. She was curious about the parties that most students attended, and the sex and alcohol that accompanied them. But she kept her nose in her books earning a degree in business, and thus, her legs closed, leaving her virginity intact, a rarity for a girl her age. But, Elizabeth was also a believer in love-true love-the kind her parents had before their death. She remembered the way they looked at each other, as if they were the only people on Earth, and though her tough exterior would keep her from admitting it, she longed for that kind of connection.
She had an intelligence that was unsurpassed, as well as a rebellious spirit. She recalled the time she took her mare, Hilda, out for the night, and told no one of her journey. She camped out and fished, and when she returned the next day, smelling of the day's catch and covered in dirt, her uncle just shook his head. That night they had enjoyed some of the fish she caught and as disappointed as he was in her failure to take up more feminine activities like weaving, he was impressed with her abilities to fish and survive in general.
She cracked a smile at that memory, as a tear rolled down her cheek. The door opened and she quickly sat up straight and brushed it away. Mr. Abbey, the attorney walked in and shook her hand, again offering his condolences. Elizabeth nodded and asked him to be seated. Mr. Abbey opened his briefcase and pulled out a beige folder. He opened it and looked up with her, clasping his hands in front of him. He took a deep breath and began.
"Elizabeth, your uncle loved you very much and always did his best to keep your best interests at heart. He considered you to be like his own daughter."
She nodded, her eyes cast down at her feet.
"He left you a letter here, which I think will clarify things a bit more after we've talked, but right now I have to inform you that you are not your uncle's heir."
Her head shot up in surprise, "What do you mean sir, I am the only living Ashley?"
"Well, yes that is true, but as you know, you uncle was very fond of genealogy and he discovered that there is another individual who is titled, and therefore, they have a rightful claim to your uncle's estate."
Elizabeth just stared at Mr. Abbey, her mouth agape. "Well, who is it then, and if that's so, what about me, this is my home sir, I will not leave my home to some stranger," she said as she stood, her voice raised and cracking, trying to choke back the tears.
"As I said, the letter will explain more. I will leave you to read it and return tomorrow after you have had time to process the arrangement and answer any questions you may have." He handed her the letter that was inside the pocket of the folder and bid her good day.
She stood looking at the envelope, wondering what her uncle had done.
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Figuring this situation could not get much worse; she ripped the envelope open and proceeded to read.
My dearest Elizabeth,
If you are reading this, then I have passed on. First of all, let me tell you how much of a joy the past fifteen years have been. I love you with all my heart and wish the best for you in life. That being said, I have some news that you will find shocking. In doing research on the family tree, I found out that my cousin, the Earl Chauncey had an illegitimate child with one of his mistresses that was given up for adoption. That child is the legal heir to Ashley castle and all my holdings. However, I want you to be taken care of and to be able to reside in the home that you love, so there is a provision to this contract. The two of you must marry and produce an heir within 15 months of your wedding date, otherwise the contract is null and void and neither of you will receive anything. I know you are asking yourself what I have done, but I truly believe you will be happy and this individual has character that will keep you in line and out of trouble. I only want for your happiness, so please make this work, and do not fail either of us. The individual who is titled and the heir to the Ashley name is Viscount Chase Barrett Chauncey. You may just know him as Chase Barrett. Please find the happiness I know you deserve.
Love,
Uncle Edmund
A wave of nausea rushed through Elizabeth's body, as well as outrage, disgust, and hurt. She could not comprehend how her uncle could do this to her-to ask her to marry and have a child with a man she didn't know, a man she couldn't love. He knew her better than this, how could she ever find love this way? She had to find a way to refuse this situation.
And the name he gave her-Chase Barrett. She only knew of one Chase Barrett-the American singer, the womanizing American singer who was always splattered all over the tabloids. How could her uncle even consider he would make a good husband? Shock and anger still coursed through her system. She ran from the room to try and grab Mr. Abbey, but he was already gone.
She could not eat at dinner and sleep did not come much easier. She tossed and turned all night, tears poking their way from beneath her lids as she tried to figure out why her uncle would do this. The answers did not come and she would have to wait until the morn to rectify this.
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"What do you mean there's no way around it, there has to be!" she yelled at Abbey.
"I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but my hands are tied. This is a legal document, and the stipulations are as such. If you refuse, you will lose the castle and the fortune. I wish there was something I could do, but I cannot."
She slumped back into the chair and rubbed her palms over her face. "Mr. Abbey, this is 2007, why would my uncle set me up to marry a man I have never met, and who is considered to be the playboy of the Western world? This guy has money anyway, he doesn't need my uncle's. How am I even going to get a hold of him? I can't marry him, I just can't do it. I want to marry for love, not for convenience." She was rambling, not really expecting answers to her questions.
"My dear, I cannot tell you of your uncle's reasons. I was shocked when he told me of this arrangement a couple years ago. But, Mr. Barrett has been contacted, and made aware that his presence is needed here in England. He has not been made aware of the depth of the situation, but he will be here later this afternoon and be briefed then.
"Great. This just keeps getting better and better."
"I expect that you will be a gracious host to him as you get better acquainted," Abbey stated.
"I'm not getting acquainted with him or anyone. I'd rather live in the woods!" Elizabeth turned on her heel and stormed out of the office. She ran outside to the stables and saddled up her mare. Her world was in turmoil and she felt like she could no longer breathe. She needed to just ride. She climbed on and took off. The mare sped through the lush hillsides of Hampshire, as the wind blew her auburn hair back. She pressed her harder and harder, making her gain speed. All she heard was the clomping of Hilda's hooves as they rhythmically hit the ground. But as much as she enjoyed the freedom and the fresh air hitting her in her face, the thoughts of this whole situation kept creeping back into her mind.
She didn't know how long she was gone for, but could tell that it was afternoon by the sun's position in the sky. The horse needed rest and she returned her to the stable and unsaddled her. Riding hard was always a good workout for both her and the horse. The spring sun beat down on her and plastered what wasn't windblown of her hair to her head. She was in desperate need of a shower and hoped to just sneak inside unnoticed. Unfortunately that was not the case.
She saw him in the hallway, looking at one of the coats of armor. His dark brown hair was shaggy and got in his eyes. The jeans he wore were worn in and ripped at the knees and the black t-shirt tight on his arms and chest. He turned and saw her, his chiseled face and brown eyes meeting her green. He cracked a polite smile, just his right cheek going up and creating a dimple.
Elizabeth quickly returned the smile and hurried past him and up the long staircase. She enjoyed a long hot shower and dressed before there was a knock on the door, telling her that her presence was needed in the office.
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Chase knew he was here for the reading of a will of some sort, but hadn't been given much more information. He stood in the hallway waiting for this Mr. Abbey guy, looking at the various pieces of artwork. He was admiring a suit of armor, probably several hundred years old, when he heard the massive front door creak open. He turned and saw a woman. She looked quite disheveled and dirty, and he figured she was some sort of worker at the castle. Her green eyes met his and he saw the elfin face that looked back at him. She was trim, only a few inches shorter than he, but had an ample bust and soft, gentle curves. She gently smiled and hurried past him, running up the stairs. He watched her go, her round ass hugged tightly by her jeans.
Keep yourself in check; he thought to himself, you don't need to go slumming with the servant pussy. And he was right, he didn't. Ugly singers got play, but Chase was the farthest thing from ugly. He had pointed features, making him look almost Roman, and he was blessed with the body of an Adonis, his well defined arms, abs, back and thighs carrying his 6'2" frame. Women threw themselves at him constantly. He had international fame and fortune, a string of number one albums and hit singles, and lots and lots of pussy. Women always managed to find their way backstage to him, some even managed to get up to the entrance of his hotel suite, though he had no idea how they got around security. Nevertheless, he was always willing to please an eager fan.
He was torn from his thoughts by a voice trying to get his attention. He turned to see a round, balding man with glasses walking towards him. "Mr. Abbey I presume?"
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Barrett," he said as he extended his hand to him.
"Please call me Chase," he said as he grasped the man's large hand within his own.
"Surely Chase, please follow me into the office." Abbey led him there and gestured to one of the chairs in front of the desk. Chase looked around, again entranced by this new room, and the ambiance he found within. The dark woods gave the room a warm, rich tone that he found inviting. "Can I get you a scotch?"
