Especially the cabbage.
Why couldn’t Black have left him a house in London? That would have been useful. Lincolnshire, where this Blackbird Heath was located, wasn’t a place Drew found the least appealing. Making his way out to the coach, Drew stuck his head through its open door.
Tamsin promptly swatted him on the arm. “Hurry up. Did you have to check the knot of your cravat once more before venturing out?”
“I like to be presentable and I’m not going to River Crest.”
Three pairs of eyes turned to him in surprise.
“An urgent business matter has arisen rather unexpectedly but one which requires my immediate attention. I’ll be along in a few days.” He flashed a smile at Tamsin, praying she wouldn’t protest too much.
“That doesn’t work on me, only widows of a certain age,” she countered. “Your business interests consist of faro and whist. Rarely anything of importance.”
“Untrue. Worth and I are considering a potential partnership.”
“Worth.” Tamsin rolled her eyes. “He’s cut from the same cloth as you. Faro, whist and widows. The more unhappily wed the better. You and Worth will make quite an impression.” Tamsin wasn’t terribly fond of Worth, finding him to have more rakish inclinations than Drew. “What will I tell Jordan? That a game of cards with Worth kept you from going home to River Crest?”
Why must Tamsin always be so bloody difficult? “You will tell Jordan that an urgent matter arose I needed to see to personally.” Namely, the sale of Blackbird Heath. Depending on the condition of the estate or farm, the proceeds should be enough to start his partnership with Worth. He could avoid completely having to go to Jordan for the sum.
Though if Blackbird Heath was anything like Dunnings, Drew’s dream might well be doomed.
“But—”
Drew stepped back from Tamsin, nodding in approval as his trunks were once more sitting on the steps of Emerson House. “I promise, I’ll join you within a few days. Jordan will understand.”
“Drew,” she said, lowering her voice. “River Crest is not Dunnings.”
“Safe travels.” He hopped back up the steps, refusing to acknowledge her remark. Tamsin knew him far too well. Waving until the carriage turned the corner, Drew returned inside and stepped into the drawing room. A whisky was in order while he waited on the arrival of Patchahoo, the Sinclair family solicitor.
Black had described Blackbird Heath as no more than a glorified farm and didn’t seem overly attached to his home. The property could well be in a state of disrepair. But much like Dunnings, there might be wealth hidden beneath the barren soil. Minerals of some sort. Coal had been found at Dunnings, after all. Certainly, if the state of Blackbird Heath was poor, it would be worth investigating.
Chapter Two
Patchahoo arrived atEmerson House less than an hour later, dressed in his usual somber attire of crisply tailored coat and trousers. Wise beyond his years, employing Patchahoo was the only good decision Bentley ever made as Lord Emerson. The solicitor was intelligent, detailed, and fiercely loyal to the Sinclair family.
“Mr. Sinclair.” Patchahoo bowed slightly. “I came as soon as I could.”
“Stop that, Patchahoo. Addressing me so formally. Either call me Sinclair or Drew, I don’t care which, but you’ve sat across the dinner table from me more often than not. You’re a member of the Sinclair family, though I well understand why you wouldn’t want to go around telling anyone in London.”
A chuckle left Patchahoo. “As you wish, Sinclair. If you don’t mind, I’ll have one of those myself.” He nodded towards the whiskey in Drew’s hand. “Bushmills?”
“A Sinclair favorite as you well know. Help yourself.” Drew gave a wave.
“I assumed you would be on your way to River Crest. Weren’t you scheduled to leave today?” Patchahoo crossed the room and made his way to the sideboard, poured a glass of whiskey, then returned to take a chair across from Drew.
“Fate.” Drew tossed the envelope on the table between them. “Intervened. I’ll follow my sisters in a few days. Depending.”
“Very mysterious.” Patchahoo reached for the envelope. “May I?”
“Please. It is why I asked you to come.”
Patchahoo opened the letter and scanned the contents before putting it aside. There were additional documents, full of legal wording that Drew hadn’t bothered to read. Those pages, Patchhoo paid a great deal more attention to.
“Interesting. You’ve been bequeathed an estate in Lincolnshire.” Patchahoo looked up.
“I ascertained as much after reading the letter from Black’s solicitor,” Drew replied.
“There is a discrepancy in the dates.” Patchahoo held up the letter along with the other documents. “Mr. Godwick, Black’s solicitor, waited some time before choosing to notify you of your good fortune.” The solicitor’s brows drew together. “If I read this correctly, Mr. Black died some time ago.”
