The Reckless Love of an Heir: An epic historical romance perfect for fans of period drama Victoria. Jane Lark

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       Chapter One

      The carriage passed between the large stone lions that held the shields engraved with the Barrington coat of arms and entered the Farnborough Estate through the open wrought iron gates. Henry sighed heavily and removed his foot from the opposite seat of his father’s carriage. The carriage had been sent to town to collect him, on his request.

      Pain shot from his right shoulder down to the elbow that was held bent within a sling. His left hand lifted and braced the shoulder.

      The damn thing killed. He would be glad to get out of this carriage. Each rut in the road had jolted his arm.

      He’d dislocated the shoulder in a fall from his curricle and sprained his wrist besides acquiring several bruises and the bloody thing made it impossible to dress or shave himself and he was equally unable ride a horse, or drive his curricle.

      He’d been told by the surgeon in London that he must wear the sling for a month while his shoulder healed, and so he had chosen to come home; where at least he would have his father’s valet and his mother and sisters to look after him.

      He picked up his hat from the far seat, using his good hand, and put it on as the carriage passed the gate house then began its journey along the snaking avenue, with its tall horse-chestnut trees either side. The trees were covered in pillars of white spring blossom.

      Henry looked towards the distance, between the trees, trying to catch the first glimpse of the house.

      Home. He felt a pull from it, a tug at the far end of what had once been a leading rein. The land and property that would one day be his had a place in his chest that inspired pride and affection. Yet, he was equally happy to be away from it. Since he’d resided in London life had opened doors and windows he’d not seen through before. He did not regret moving there at all. It would have been hideous here, once he’d finished at Oxford. The restrictions his father and mother would have set over his life if he’d returned to Farnborough would have been unbearable, he would have become their coddled child again. In London he could do as he wished, without judgement.

      There.

      He saw the house.

      Farnborough was caught in a ray of sunlight that had broken through the clouds, the clouds that had been hovering over the carriage throughout his journey.

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