Elizabeth put down her paper and quill and looked up at her father where he paced back and forth before the fire. At more than sixty he was still a very fine looking man, with an imposing figure, a high forehead, and a mane of gray hair bound at the nape of his neck with a simple black band. Powdered wigs were going out of fashion, and he had been quick to give them up; his full head of hair had always been a point of pride. Her father's color was very high, Elizabeth noted, and she wondered about his health, although she was pleased to see that he was in good spirits.

"Do I need to change, Father?" she asked, looking down at herself.

"What!" he cried out. "Gray for a party?"

Elizabeth smiled. "I usually wear gray, Father, but I have another gown which might please you better. I will wear that."

"Good!" he said, satisfied.

"I want to show you off this evening."

She hesitated. "Father, I hope you will not think me forward, but I have invited Mr. Bonner and his son to the party. So that we can discuss the building of the schoolhouse." Her father had no objection to this, she could see, and so she continued.

"I am very much looking forward to meeting all your friends," she said. "But I would like to remind you that I have no intention of marrying."

The judge drew up, surprised, and turned to her with his hands clasped behind his back. His lips pursed, he considered his daughter for a long minute, until Elizabeth began to grow uncomfortable under his gaze.

"This cannot possibly surprise you," Elizabeth said finally. "I have been honest with you from the beginning."

"I would like you to marry," her father said shortly. "It would be a comfort to know you well provided for beyond my death."

"I have some money of my own," Elizabeth said. "You know that. I will never want for basic necessities. And when one day you are gone—I don't foresee that in the near future, but when that day comes, then I hope that my brother will be of assistance to me. He will not lack for material wealth."

The judge frowned. "You have more faith in your brother's ability to put his past behind him than I do," he said. "If he manages to reform, you may be right. But who knows what will happen? No, I would be remiss not to take your prospects and your best interests into consideration, my dear. And there is the matter of the land. The stewardship of this land is something I take very seriously indeed."

Elizabeth hesitated. "I do hope that Julian will keep his promise to you and to me," she said. "I think the repercussions of his actions are clear to him, finally, and I hope that the lesson will stay learned. He is capable of learning how best to manage the family holdings. He is certainly interested."

The judge gave a short wheeze of impatience. "You cannot build your future on your hopes for your brother. You need someone else to depend on, once I am gone."

"I trust that I shall always be able to depend upon myself," said Elizabeth with what she hoped was a disarming smile.

The judge walked up and down the room once, his hands crossed on his lower back. "Elizabeth, what kind of father would I be if I didn't make provision for you?" He seemed to consider, and then strode to his desk. From his waistcoat pocket the judge took a small key, and opening a drawer he took out a piece of paper. Squinting a bit, he looked it over, and then he came to Elizabeth and put it in her hand.

""Deed of Gift,"" Elizabeth read aloud.

The judge was looking very satisfied with himself. "The original patent," he said. "All of it, which includes Hidden Wolf. A thousand acres, my dear. For you. The rest of the property—another two thousand acres—is meant for your brother, of course. One day, when he has proven himself. It has been my life's work, and it is my primary concern to maintain the family holdings together and in trust for my children, and generations to come.

Confused, Elizabeth looked up at her father, and then down at the document again.

“. . . said property and all leases and improvements upon it to the only use and behoof of my said daughter Elizabeth Middleton, her heirs and assigns . . .”

"But why?" Elizabeth said. "Why now, and in this manner? This is surely highly unusual."

"I thought you would be pleased," the judge said, a little affronted.

"Father," Elizabeth began. "Please do not think me ungrateful. I simply don't understand what would move you to do something like this."

"It is not so unusual," said the judge, "to want to see your property well disposed of in the capable hands of trustworthy children."

Elizabeth wanted to take her father's words at their face value, to believe that she had his trust. But he would not meet her eye, and he began to gnaw on the stem of his pipe quite ferociously.

"It is unusual to pass valuable property into the hands of an unmarried daughter," she said. "I could do with it as I please, after all." Then she looked at the deed once again. A wave of understanding washed through her and left her feeling hollow.

"You haven't signed it yet," she said. "And it isn't witnessed."

The judge rocked back on his heels. "I will sign it before witnesses on the day you marry.

Startled, Elizabeth rose from her seat. "And whom do you have in mind for my husband?"

"Richard Todd," her father answered simply. "I thought that was obvious. It is an excellent match, Lizzie. Together you will have some five thousand acres. Not as large as some of the patents to the west, but sufficient. You shall be well provided for, no matter what foolery your brother gets up to with his lands once I am gone. Richard can be entrusted to look after Julian's interests as well as yours."