Abandoned to the Prodigal, page 13
“You’ll never get it all out of him at once,” Dan said when Patrick had ridden off to report again to his lordship. “And at least he’s talking to your father now. We have to start somewhere.”
“Well, I have to hand it to you,” Pat admitted. “No one else has ever got him as far as the desperate repairs before.”
“We’ll see how much further we can get him before he throws me out the house,” Dan said cheerfully. “But if I’m going to talk him into things, or at least try to, I’ll need a better understanding of what I’m talking about. Will you show me?”
“So that you know I’m not talking rubbish?”
“That, too,” Dan admitted, but Pat didn’t take offense, merely set off toward the ditch at the foot of the field. The rain had slowed to a mere drizzle.
By the end of the afternoon, Dan knew more than he’d ever imagined about drainage, enclosures, and crop rotations, and had grasped the sense as well as the scale of the improvements Pat wanted to make.
Exhausted, but with his mind buzzing around the problems and possibilities, he arrived home with Gun in time for dinner. The rain had gone off altogether, so he was more or less dried off as he walked upstairs and straight into his grandfather’s rooms.
Waits looked wary. “His lordship’s just preparing for dinner, sir.”
“Who’s that?” the old man yelled from the bedchamber. “If it’s that blithering, prancing idiot, send him about his business.”
Dan, who had no difficulty in recognizing his cousin Hugh from this description, grimaced as he sauntered over to the bedchamber. “I might be an idiot, but I don’t think I prance. May I come in?”
“You are in, are you not?” his grandfather snapped.
“I won’t keep you,” Dan promised.
“Damned right. You look as if you’ve been dragged through a hedge backward.”
“If I haven’t, it’s only because Pat didn’t think of it. He did drag me through several ditches, though. There’s quite a science to this farming business, isn’t there?”
The old man regarded him with contempt. “How would I know? I’m a gentleman, not a damned farmer.”
“You’re a poorer gentleman than you need to be,” Dan said, frankly. “Which brings me to what I wanted to ask you. Do I have your permission to look at the estate books?”
The old man’s jaw dropped. Then he rallied. “Checking up on the inheritance I won’t leave you?” he snarled.
“You’re not dying, Grandfather,” Dan said wryly. “Not yet. I want to see what there is, to see where and by how much it can be better.”
“Why?”
Dan shrugged. “Got nothing better to do,” he said honestly. “And besides, it’s actually interesting. I like this place. You have good people.”
His grandfather goggled at him, and he wondered what the devil he had said wrong. Then the old man let out a bark of laughter. “Very well. Tell Patrick to show you what you like. When you’ve looked, talk to me again. Now go away so I can enjoy my dinner in peace.”
*
The next morning dawned a little cloudy but fair. Dan and Gun stepped into the fresh air and loped together toward Myerly hamlet. The people there had got used to seeing them over the last week and now generally waved or exchanged greetings with him. Some would even make a fuss of Gun, although the tavern cat kept a safe distance. It was too early for most people to be about, so he skirted the hamlet and paused.
For days, even in the pouring rain, this was where he had cut across the fields to the river and crossed the bridge to Hornby. To Juliet. He wondered if she would come, despite their discovery. If she would be waiting for him among the trees, reading, painting and ready to greet him with the smile that made his heart turn over.
He could just go and see. He would hate to disappoint her.
But this wasn’t his usual type of flirtation. For one thing, she didn’t flirt. They were friends, and for the second time, he had endangered that relationship by being unable to resist kissing her. Worse, they had almost been seen, which had brought home to him the seriousness of their clandestine meetings. There was no need for them if he could call at the house.
It won’t be the same.
His mouth twisted into a sad smile, and he turned away from Hornby.
The instant he moved, a loud crack filled the air, startling him out of his reverie. Gun immediately went off like the rifle shot he was named for, barking and bolting straight ahead. Then, when he could find nothing to chase, he ran in circles, as though searching.
Eventually, the dog trotted unhappily back to Dan, sniffing the air with a look of disapproval.
Dan didn’t blame him. Even he could smell the gunpowder. Someone was up early shooting foxes or rabbits. Or poaching, perhaps. Whatever the victim, the shot made Dan feel oddly exposed.
*
Juliet woke at dawn as she had done for most of the last week. Her heart felt stupidly heavy that she had no need to rise to keep her assignation.
I could just go and see if he is there…
And if Kitty is watching me again? If she tells Papa? For my own good, of course…
Determinedly, she closed her eyes. Dan’s laughing face seemed to dance across her vision. And then came closer, his eyes warm and serious. She remembered his lips on hers, the novel sensations of deep, passionate kisses and heat spread through her belly. Her whole body tingled.
Almost with surprise, she realized she liked everything about Dan, from the way he talked to the way he moved. From his casual kindness to his unexpected passions for matters like farming. His care for his mother, the reluctant affection she sensed for his grandfather, and his growing interest in the Myerly people. Dan was a good man.
And no one had ever kissed her as he did.
Juliet had always been curious. In her first Season, she had allowed a fervent suitor to steal a kiss, which had so utterly underwhelmed her, she had immediately lost interest in him. Jeremy was more a man of devoted speeches and gifts, which she had mistaken for respectful love. And she had been comfortable with him, had looked forward to learning about physical love with him when they were married.
Dear God, what an escape! From the shallowness of his affections—and hers, if she was honest, for what she had imagined to be love had died instantly that last morning at Alford House when she had asked for his trust and been offered twenty pounds. But also, it had clearly been an escape from future boredom. Jeremy was an excellent partner for dinner or dancing, a welcome guest to one’s box at the opera, or to tea, but to live with him…her spirit would have shriveled and died. One touch of Dan’s finger excited her more than…
And she should not be thinking like this.
In desperation, she threw off the bedclothes and rose. She was thinking about Dan, she told herself, to avoid thinking about the arrival of the Alfords, who were expected by dinner time this evening. Her father anticipated much of this visit, although at least he had become less intense about it since the letter from Lord Barden. He imagined either Jeremy or Barden would come up to scratch and save her from utter ruin.
Juliet, on the other hand, was wondering how to play them off against each other until the whole scandal blew over.
If it ever did. Either way, the next few days and Kitty’s engagement dinner were going to be a strain on her nerves. And she did not even have her time with Dan to look forward to, to sustain her.
Yes, I do, she told herself. He will call at the house, as he did before…
However, the only visitors from Myerly were Colin Cornwell and his cousin Hugh Ames, and they did not stay long.
“We come merely as messengers from our mamas,” Hugh explained, presenting a letter to the countess.
Colin bowed and handed her a similar one with an apologetic smile. “The upshot is, we are all honored by your invitation to Lady Katherine’s dinner and are delighted to accept.”
That they had been invited was news to Juliet, whose spirits immediately lifted.
“Mr. Stewart is not with you today?” she asked politely.
“Alas, we could not drag him away from his dusty books,” Hugh mourned.
Juliet blinked. “Dusty books?”
“Estate ledgers,” Colin said disparagingly. “He must imagine it will impress my grandfather.”
“Do you think so?” Hugh sounded surprised. “I’ve never known Dan try to impress anyone. Strange fellow. I would die of boredom, and as for inhaling those decades of dust, I believe I would be ill for a month.”
“Do you care to read, Lady Juliet?” Colin inquired.
“Yes, though I have yet to try ledgers!”
“I imagine no one will force such dull matter upon you. Perhaps you have read Waverley?”
It was a short, slightly ponderous discussion that lasted a quarter of an hour before the gentlemen took their leave.
“I look forward to seeing you again on Saturday,” he said to Juliet, smiling.
“Do you know,” Kitty observed when the door had closed behind them, “I think he came just to see you, Juliet.”
“Perhaps he doesn’t read the same newspapers as everyone else.”
“Or perhaps he thinks he’ll try for an earl’s daughter while her stock is low,” Ferdy mused.
“Don’t be vulgar, Ferdy,” the countess snapped.
“Or insulting,” Kitty added, glaring at her brother.
“Not insulting at all,” Juliet said tiredly. “Papa told me he is now considering poor suitors. It is not Ferdy but the suitors themselves—if they exist—whom I find insulting.”
*
As everyone expected, greeting the Alfords when they arrived just before six o’clock that afternoon, was something of a trial. The original plan had been to welcome them as almost-family who would spend a few days with them, allowing Juliet and Jeremy time together while their fathers put the final touches to the marriage agreements. And of course, they would have been honored guests at Kitty’s betrothal.
But trust and goodwill had vanished. Now it was strictly business, with Lord Alford and Jeremy holding the upper hand. Lord Cosland’s chief concern was to marry off his elder daughter at almost any price that would have a chance of saving her reputation and, therefore, the entire family’s.
Fortunately, it was deemed best for Juliet to stay very much in the background. Perversely, now that she was called upon to be present at all, Juliet rather wished she could hide in her chamber instead.
It was her mother who saved the day. Being the perfect hostess, she greeted them hospitably and immediately swept Lord and Lady Alford upstairs to their rooms.
“Ferdy, take Jeremy up,” she called over her shoulder. “And make sure he has everything he needs.”
Jeremy eyed Ferdy somewhat warily. Ferdy looked back without friendliness.
“This way,” he said at last.
Only then did Jeremy’s gaze actually meet Juliet’s. Surprise flickered across his face. At what? she wondered. That she had not gone into an obvious decline? That she was dressed in fine sprig muslin and jewels rather than sackcloth and ashes?
She inclined her head very slightly and walked back into the drawing room with Kitty at her heels.
“That could have been worse,” Kitty observed with relief.
“It will be,” Juliet assured her.
*
“I hope you don’t mind,” Dan’s mother said to him during dinner that evening, “but I accepted Lady Cosland’s invitation to dine. On behalf of both of us.”
Dan, who had been performing complicated calculations in his head, dragged himself into the real world with a start. “What invitation?”
“Lady Cosland’s,” his mother replied patiently. “They are holding a dinner party for all the important families of the area to celebrate Lady Katherine’s engagement.”
“Oh, that. But we’re not an important family of the area.”
“Apparently, we count because of our connection to Grandfather,” Hugh explained.
Dan’s eyebrows flew up. “What, did they invite the old gentleman, too? Is he going?”
“How could he when he cannot get out his bed?” Aunt Tabetha demanded.
“I’ll wager he could if he wanted to,” Dan remarked. “But I take your point.”
“He wouldn’t go to Hornby if he could,” Colin said. “He hasn’t spoken to Cosland in decades.”
“Don’t suppose Cosland has invited him in decades either,” Dan replied.
“I’ll tell you what, though, Dan,” Hugh said, frowning in his direction. “Think you might need a better coat for the occasion.”
“This is my better coat. I’m hurt you didn’t notice.”
“I noticed it was black and not blue. And I know you’re not remotely hurt. I could lend you one.”
“It wouldn’t fit,” Hugh’s father said vaguely.
“I won’t care so long as it’s pink. Or yellow,” Dan said, grinning at Hugh. “Is it?”
“Of course not, dear boy,” Hugh said, apparently affronted. “Colors are for morning wear. Evening clothes are black. Apart from waistcoats.”
“I can’t wait,” Dan assured him.
He sat back while the servants cleared away the dishes and brought in an apple sponge pudding with vanilla custard.
Griffin, overseeing matters to his satisfaction, bowed to the table. “His lordship has asked me to pass on his invitation that you take a glass of wine with him after dinner. In his rooms.”
“Who?” Tabetha demanded.
“Everyone, ma’am,” Griffin replied. He bowed again and left.
“All of us?” Hugh said doubtfully. “Not sure I care to have a glass of wine thrown at me.”
“You’ve got to be quick,” Dan acknowledged.
“Is there even room for us all up there?” Mr. Ames demanded.
“I daresay Waits will make enough room,” Aunt Hetty said doubtfully.
“There is nothing worse than being forced into a crowded room with a sick person,” Mr. Ames said with a frown of worry.
“Then don’t go,” Aunt Tabetha retorted. “I doubt he meant you in any case.”
“Why would he not?” Hetty demanded with unexpected spirit. “I suppose my husband must count among everyone!”
Dan’s mother reached for her spoon. “If he doesn’t want us all, I imagine he’ll weed us out at the door in no uncertain terms. We should all go and be prepared to run.”
“Your levity is inappropriate,” Tabetha said grandly. “Have you considered he wants to see us all because he is actually dying?”
“No,” Jenny replied.
Hetty laid down her spoon. “Suddenly, I am not hungry.”
“Save it for later,” Hugh advised. “Think I will, too.”
After a day spent among numbers and riding about the various farms, Dan was not about to give up any part of the somewhat meager meal. Eventually, realizing everyone was staring at him, he shoveled in the last spoonful and rose, still chewing, and gestured with his hand toward the door.
“What’s got into the old devil?” he murmured as he walked upstairs with his mother.
“Who knows? You saw him last. How was he?”
Dan shrugged. “He let me prattle on for a bit but didn’t shout. Threw me out when his man of business turned up from Kidfield. I hope he wasn’t trying to dismiss the Patricks because I’ve been nagging him…”
Lord Myerly was discovered in his dressing room. Wrapped in a startlingly fine embroidered dressing gown, little worn but probably dating from the previous century, he sat in an armchair by the empty fireplace. Other chairs had been brought in, and he waved everyone toward them with surprising cordiality. Naturally, there weren’t enough. Hugh stood somewhat nervously behind his father’s. Colin leaned his shoulder against the side of the mantelpiece farthest from the old man. Dan, after helping Waits to distribute glasses and wine, rested his hip on the arm of his mother’s chair.
For a recluse, Lord Myerly seemed to enjoy being the center of attention as he gazed around his family.
“Don’t look so worried,” he said at last. “I won’t keep you long. Just thought you’d all like to drink a toast with me.”
“Your continued good health, Grandfather,” Colin said politely.
The old man glared at him. “My toast!” he snapped. “Which is to my heir. Yes, I’ve made my decision.”
“May we know what you based it on?” Hugh’s father asked mildly—and rather bravely, Dan thought.
Oddly enough, Lord Myerly didn’t annihilate him, either verbally or with missiles. “Good question,” he allowed. “I have three grandsons. Colin is the eldest. Dan is the son of my eldest daughter. Hugh is…Hugh. I couldn’t make the decision based on age or birth, so I asked each of them what they would do with the land if they got it.” He glared around each of his grandsons. “None of you said anything remotely sensible, let alone practical.”
Dan smiled faintly into his glass. His grandfather was unlikely to recognize a sensible suggestion rammed under his nose.
“But Dan went and found out,” the old gentleman growled. “He talked to people, my old steward and his fiery son. He looked at the land, looked at the books, and nagged me to utter boredom!”
“Not Dan then,” Hugh murmured, and Dan cast him a quick grin.
“Why not Dan?” their grandfather demanded. “Because I quarreled with his mother? Because his father was a mere army captain?”
“Colonel,” Dan said mildly.
His grandfather ignored him, glaring instead from Hugh to Colin. “Well, here’s one in the eye for you, popinjay! And you, Master Ramrod. Dan will get the estate. Everything that is not entailed.” He thrust his glass out. “My heir!” he declared and drank.
Dan’s mouth fell open.
Jenny began to laugh.
“Well, that’s that,” Hugh said, sounding almost relieved.
“Papa, you cannot have considered…!” Tabetha spluttered.
“At least consider a three-way split of the estate, Papa,” Hetty wheedled.
“Three-way split?” her father repeated with contempt. “You never mentioned such a thing before, just how it would benefit Hugh, who apparently has this powerful affection for me! No, I’ve considered and considered well. He speaks his mind, and he cares what happens to the place, not just for how it will boost his standing. It’s done. My will is made and signed, and Dan is my heir. To Dan.”
