Barlow blanched, seemingly disarmed by the unexpected challenge—and brilliant smile. Only fifteen years Jane’s senior, Hester remained a fetching woman, despite having been widowed at the tender age of eighteen. Emboldened by her aunt’s frankness, Jane waded into the moment.
“Introductions aside. Why have you called me here? And why did you invite the rabble?” She motioned toward Ashford without sparing him a glance.
Her pretentious neighbor harrumphed. “My question exactly. To what do I owe this indignity? Have you struck a deal with the Hancocks to ruin my family?”
Rutley smiled with all the charm of a scorpion and motioned to a set of three chairs arrayed before his desk. Jane and Ashford exchanged warning glances before occupying the two farthest from each other. Aunt Hester occupied the middle chair while Barlow remained standing. Rutley settled behind his desk and steepled his fingers on the desktop.
“Well?” said Jane.
Rutley smiled again, clearly savoring the moment. “I am calling in your debts, Hancock and Ashford alike, payable within twenty-four hours. Failure to pay will result in the inevitable financial consequences.”
Jane recoiled and gasped from the force of the blunt statement. He was calling in her debt? Now? Then the full context of Rutley’s declaration impacted her. She looked at Ashford to find him similarly stunned. “You owe Mr. Rutley money as well?”
He cut hollow eyes toward her. An utter lack of response provided the answer. Rutley seemed only happy to explain.
“The Ashford estate owes me eight thousand pounds. Your family owes me more than half that sum. Forty-eight hundred, to be precise. With the recent economic uncertainty, I have lost confidence in your respective abilities to make good.”
Jane nearly rose from her chair in anger before remembering decorum. She gathered her composure. “Mr. Rutley, sir. You know very well that the widespread failure of spring and summer crops has all but shuttered our mill. I ask only a year of grace. Next year’s crops will restore us, I am certain.”
The desperate faces of each farmer who had visited her family’s mill the past several months surged through her mind. Between historic cold snaps and torrential rains, most farmers had barely managed to produce enough to spare their families from starving during the coming winter. Mill revenues had virtually disappeared. Her working capital was approaching nil.
Rutley waved a dismissive hand. “That is none of my concern. When your father died, I advised you to sell to me for the forgiveness of your loans. I warned you against assuming his debt and amassing further liability to save your mill. I find no pleasure in having been correct.”
Jane knew him to be lying about one thing. He took great delight in her family’s demise. “Ihaveinitiated efforts to sell the mill.”
“Again, not my concern. With the current crop crisis, any sale would net only a fraction of what you owe. Your heroic efforts are quite too late.”
Apparently less concerned about decorum, Ashford did stand. His pent dismay burst forth. “Rutley, you know very well how the poor weather has brought my tenants to their knees. If I demanded what they salvaged, they would not survive the winter.”
“Not my concern.”
“For nearly two hundred years my family estate has produced a profit annually, even during drought-stricken times. We will again next year. I have released most of my staff in the meantime to stretch what little funds remain.”
“Again, not my concern.”
“Why, you snake…”
Rutley surged to his feet and loomed over the desk as would a fire and brimstone preacher in his pulpit. “That will be all, Mr. Ashford. Your family assumed the risk, and you have defaulted. I possess the legal right to trigger the consequences. As your estate is collateral for the debt, you must forfeit it to me.”
Ashford’s jaw went slack. “But my estate is worth three times what I owe. And because of the lien you’ve placed on it, I cannot sell even a portion of it to cover the debt.”
“Not my concern, Ashford. Particularly given that you courted my daughter but never offered marriage. Otherwise, I might have considered friendlier terms.”
Jane listened with stunned numbness to the caustic exchange. She inhaled a quivering breath. “And what of me? Will you take my mill?”
He frowned at her. “Despite its status as collateral for your loans, your mill is nearly worthless in the face of your debt and the general crop failures. As such, I have no choice but to remand you to debtor’s prison.”
Jane faded into her chair with shock as those last two words circled her brain.Debtor’s prison.She had not foreseen that outcome. Most folks she knew who entered debtor’s prison emerged either depleted or in a pine box. Furthermore, she knew no one who owed the amount she did. Her future dissolved bleakly before her eyes as she stared blankly at the floor in silence. Ashford plopping into his chair drew her glance. His pained expression caught her by surprise.
“Miss Hancock, I…”
She returned her gaze to the floor, leaving his comment unsaid. She did not want his pity. The room lapsed into silence once again.
“Mr. Barlow.” Her aunt’s tender entreaty pulled Jane from her disarray.
“Mrs. Byrd?” Barlow replied.
“What your employer proposes is monstrously intolerable, do you not agree?”
