Judith Brewen held her breath, counting her steps as she made her way to her father’s study.
She had waited a long time for this moment, building her courage and preparing herself for whatever would come of the conversation she wished to have with him.
She had never deceived herself into thinking it would be easy to convince her father to acquiesce to her request. Yet, she dared to hope. The least she could do was try.
Finally, she came to the doors of the study. They stood tall and proud, as they had for the past eighty years—long before even the dream of her birth came to life.
The wood shone still with the coat of varnish applied only a summer ago—just before her elder brother’s wedding. Not that anyone had ever tried, but it was apparent to anyone on seeing the stout oak doors that breaking through them doors would be near impossible.
They were strong, sturdy, just like the bricks and mortar holding the house together, and every other piece of furniture it contained. Her grandfather had been quite the practical man and that was mirrored in the elegant simplicity of the architecture, décor, and furnishings of the manor she called home.
Taking her mind away from the aged beauty of the doors, Judith concentrated instead on her reason for standing there before them that evening.
It was the perfect time: The sun was starting to set, and her father would be weary from his day’s work. She hoped, for this reason, he would not have it in him to give much resistance.
Releasing the breath she hardly realized she was holding, she balled her hand into a fist and raised it up to knock.
She gave three short, loud raps.
A moment later, a familiar voice called from inside the room.
“Who is it?”
She swallowed, wetting her throat before answering. “It is I, Father. May I come in?”
“Is anything the matter?” her father, Baron Davenforth, inquired.
She was quick to answer. “Oh, not at all, Father. I simply wish to speak with you concerning a matter, is all.”
There was a moment of silence, and she waited patiently, praying he would let her in.
When his response came, she sighed in relief.
“You may enter, Judith.”
With his permission, she opened the doors and stepped into the large room. It was one of the biggest in the house and rightly so.
The study had belonged to her father’s father, but when he passed away, leaving his first son to inherit all, her father had made it his own.
There were ten shelves reaching up to the roof, all filled with books, on the wall facing the doors. It made the place look like a small library. There were also sofas arranged about the left side of the room.
This was where her father received his guests.
The walls of the study were paneled with wood, with a polished wooden floor, whose old boards creaked slightly when walked upon. There were four large windows, affording the whole room a brightly lit aspect.
However, her father mostly preferred the curtains drawn, making the room appear perpetually dim, especially when the sun began to set—as it was just about to do that very moment.
Ranged about the other walls were an ornate pendulum clock far older than her, and paintings of her grandfather, father, and brother; three generations of great men.
Then, there was his desk, dark and massive, dominating that part of the study—and behind it Father, ensconced in his large leather chair—with two less comfortable one set out for guests in front.
A globe sat on the left side of the desk and next to it were stacks of journals and ledgers.
Her father looked up from the file he was assessing as she neared his desk. When she reached him, he removed his spectacles and placed them aside.
The Baron had seven and fifty summers behind him. His blond hair had started to turn gray, further bringing out the green of his eyes.
He was a tall man, at six feet three, easily towering above Judith. Though his age was starting to tell, he remained agile, with sharp senses, quick movements, and a bright mind.
His beard reached up to his ears, stopping just beneath his lobes. A thick moustache sat beneath his long nose. His broad shoulders stood proud as always.
Judith’s lips curved into a smile as she appraised him. Her mother thought him the most handsome man she had ever seen. It had never been hard for Judith to see why.
Her father was easy on the eyes, as was her brother,