"He's completely and utterly boring!"

"He's well off."

"You and I both know that my dowry is more than enough to purchase his plantation."

"He can take care of you."

"PLEASE! He can't take care of himself. I mean, look at his hair! What kind of man has hair like that?"

"Maria. . . "

Oh no. He's using the voice. How am I supposed to win this one when he's using his I-am-Lawrence-Deluca-the-lord-of-the-finest-vineyard-in-Virginia-so-all-must-bow-to-me voice? I am a grown woman, and I should be able to pick and choose whom I do and do not marry. I mean, Kyle Valenti? Why not just marry me off to a rock? At least then I have a chance at a decent conversation.

"But Father -- "

"Maria Catalina Antonia Deluca, you are my daughter, and you will do as I see fit. Kyle Valenti is a good, honorable man, and you will be married to him. I don't want to hear another word about it."

I watch as my father walks away. For about two seconds. "Kyle isn't a good, honorable man. He isn't even mediocre!" I turn to face my mother, who is busying herself with her tea as if nothing is the matter. "Mother, help me!" My mother, Amy, gazes up at me with wholesome green eyes. Oh no. She's using the eyes.

"Maria, I think that your father has made the right decision for you. Kyle is the most eligible bachelor in Virginia. It is a good match for you." Dear Lord, why must this happen to me?

"I cannot marry Kyle. He wouldn't know what to do with me. What would I do to keep occupied with a husband with Kyle's lack of wit?"

"You will have your children to keep you occupied. Kyle doesn't need wit."

Children? Children?!? No. No possible way. I don't want to even THINK about having children with that twit. "Mo -- "

"Maria, this topic is closed. You will marry Kyle."

***

Maria Catalina Antonia Valenti. Just the very thought of those names placed together gives me hives. How can my parents believe that Kyle Valenti is a good match for me? Have they even met the man?

All my life, my parents have always tried to do what is best for me. Why oh why did they decide to stop now? I mean, Kyle is a good man -- just not a good man for ME. My parents do love me with all their hearts, but they have missed the most basic of requirements I look for in a suitor. And we have nothing in common. I have my music, Kyle has his polo. I have my charities, Kyle has himself. Marrying me off to Kyle Valenti would be the absolute most horrid choice my father could have made for me.

But, of course, I am bound to disapprove of any choice in husband my parents make. Except for one. Michael Guerin.

But how would it work? I am the daughter of the most influential man on the coast of Virginia, and Michael is an Irish immigrant who tames horses with the reputation of a scoundrel. Is it a joke in Heaven to have me fall in love with such a man? Although, I know that Michael is so much more than what he allows most people to see.

I have lived in Ravensport since my birth, and I have yet to meet either a man or a woman who has a fraction of the compassion that Michael possesses. Michael is a man who is very difficult not to notice. I knew of his arrival from the moment he stepped off of the ship. Truthfully, so did every other person in this town. Of course, it is not much of a surprise when you consider the fact that he had been drinking ale and brawled the blacksmith. And won, as I might boast. The little known cause of said fight was to protect the honor of a nun who had made a late night trip to the apothecary to purchase medicine for an orphan boy after midnight.

That is the Michael Guerin that I see. The protector of the weak. Because that is what he truly is. I have seen him fight for everyone from the most respectable citizen to the most degraded whore. There has never been a more selfless man born since the saints. If only I could marry a man for his soul and not for his wealth. Although Michael does make a fair amount of money with his horses -- his reputation precedes him; he sells his stock from Pennsylvania to Georgia -- but his wealth is not nearly enough to gain the eye of my father.

"Maria."

Oh dear Lord. There is a voice I have come to loathe. I look up from the daisies I am weaving in my long, golden hair. "Good afternoon, Kyle."

Kyle Valenti strolled up the path of the garden. Kyle lifted my hand gently to his lips. "How are you today, milady?"

"Fine." Please leave, please leave, please, please, please. . .

"Maria, I was wondering if you would pleasure me with your company this afternoon. Your father has already permitted me to take you on an outing." Oh, that is just peachy. How could he do this to me? Well, just let me give Kyle Valenti a piece of my mind. . . "So, will you like accompany me on a trip to Michael Guerin's farm? I have heard that he has a wonderful selection of animals this summer." Michael? Did he just say Michael?

"I would love to, Kyle."

***

Of all the things I had expected to see on Michael Guerin's farm, children has never been one of them. Michael and a tall boy -- around eleven years with curly blond hair -- are standing in the middle of a coral, tethering a muscular black mare together as she trots around in a circle. Two young girls -- one blond and the other a redhead, aged about seven and thirteen -- watched them train the horse from the other side of the fence, a bundle that I can only presume to be a baby in a basket by their feet. I can feel my heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Is he married? How is it that I did not know that he has children?

"Mr. Guerin!"

My heart skips a beat as Michael looks away from the mare. Sending the boy out of the ring, Michael carefully removed the harness from the horse. After releasing the mare into the pasture, he made his way towards us. "Hello Mr. Valenti." Michael caught my eye with his own stunning hazel. "Miss Deluca." I can feel my face heat into a blush, and I tilt my head so that my long, daisy-filled locks might hide my reaction from Kyle.

The children come towards us slowly as Kyle walked towards the pasture for a better view of the animals. I know it is not proper, but I cannot help but inquire. "I was not aware that you were a father, Mr. Guerin." Michael grins at me, and I try to hide the trembling in my knees.

"I was not aware I am a father, either, Miss Deluca. Is there something you would like to share with me?" Michael laughs as my blush deepens.

"Mr. Guerin, you would not think that so funny if my fiancee had heard you speak to me in such a manor." His laughter stops abruptly, and I could swear that his face has paled.

"You are engaged to Kyle Valenti?" I nod. Michael runs his hands through his hair and avoids my eyes. "You must be joking. You don't belong with that dolt. He is a terrible match for you."

"Tell that to my father." We stand awkwardly, and I try to think of something -- anything -- to say to fill the void. "So, if these children are not your own, who are they?"

Michael drags his gaze from the ground and gives me another grin. Waving the children over, he beams at me proudly. "These are orphans who came in from Eire yesterday. This is Thomas O'Brien and his sister, Rhiannon," he gestured to the boy who was training the mare and the blond girl. "That. . ." pointing to the redhead, ". . . there is Finola Connely, and the babe is Andrew McTiernan."

"Mr. Guerin!" Kyle runs up to us. Michael tears his eyes away from my own, and I can feel the loss like the loss of the sun. "Your horses are truly magnificent. How much does the silver stallion fare?"