“Glad to hear it. I like a snifter as much as the next man, but when a man’s bosky all the time, he gets nothing done!”
This observation led Prentice into a long story about the drunken tailor from his childhood village who failed to get some local dignitary's wedding clothes ready in time, leading to various sad and ridiculous consequences.
Plainly, Mr. Prentice liked to talk. Indeed he was still telling his story when the housekeeper returned with the tea tray and began pouring and passing round cups.
When Mr Prentice’s story finally came to an end, Theo said, “Mr. Norris tells me you may be interested in buying Blackfriars, Mr. Prentice?”
“I certainly am,” Prentice said cheerfully. “Are you interested in selling it to me?”
Instead of answering this question, Theo said, “I gather you own a fair bit of land around here?”
“I do,” Prentice said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile. “I’m originally from these parts, you see. When I left, at fifteen, the Radcliffe family owned most everything around here. I returned when I was fifty, and within a few years, I’d become the largest landowner for miles around. Isn’t that right, Norris?” He looked very pleased with himself.
“It is, indeed,” Norris said obligingly, sipping his tea.
“So, you have not lived your whole life in this area?” Theo asked.
“No, I had to leave Wales as a young man. My father passed away suddenly, and I needed to earn money to provide for my mother and younger brothers. I moved to Liverpool and found my way in to the textile trade. I was fortunate enough to find great success there. But I always knew that one day I would come home.” He smiled at Theo with obvious pride. “Now my two sons run the factories I established, while I send them wool from the sheep I raise here, on my land.”
“That sounds like quite the family concern,” Theo said.
Prentice looked amused at that. “Well, there is nothing new about that. It has always been the concern of particular families to own as much land as they can and to use it as well as they might. When I was a boy, the Radcliffe family owned almost every square foot of land around here, and had done so for three hundred years or more.” He sent Theo a sly glance. “Until Major Thomas Radcliffe inherited the estate, that is. He gambled it all away.”
“I see,” Theo said, thinking of how his uncle had acquired Blackfriars. Had he won it from the same man Prentice was talking about? “That is an all too common story.”
“It certainly is,” Prentice said, with palpable satisfaction. “Gambling is the great weakness of our age, Mr. Caldwell. It has been the downfall of more than one aristocratic family.” Pausing, he sipped his tea, contemplative, and Theo stayed silent, waiting.
“When I came back to Wales,” Prentice continued, “I acquired half the Radcliffe lands. Five years after that, I acquired the rest—most of it, anyway. The family still retains the old manor house and some surrounding gardens, for now. In addition, I’ve picked up a few other, smaller holdings over the years. At this point, I have more sheep than any other single landowner in Wales.” He grinned at Theo, adding unapologetically, “And still I find myself wanting more.”
Theo eyed him carefully. “May I ask why it is you want to acquire Blackfriars? It sounds as though you already have more land than you’ll ever need.”
“I use my land to raise sheep, Mr. Caldwell. Wool is what I know. Right now, I own parcels of land on either side of your estate. It would suit me very well to have the piece in the middle too. I’d be able to quickly enlarge my herds without needing to take on more shepherds, and I’d move all the shearing to Blackfriars, which would be far more efficient and save me a good deal of cost.”
“I see,” Theo said. “So… you would not envisage continuing with the present tenants?”
“No,” Prentice said bluntly. “There is no question of that. But I hope that won't present a difficulty. I’m prepared to offer you a very fair price.” He smiled amiably. “At my age, I’ve no patience for extended negotiations.”
“I see,” Theo said, trying to seem calm even as his gut twisted at this news.
Norris sat forward then, drawing a sheaf of papers out of his coat pocket. He opened them up and set them down on the table. “I have Mr. Prentice’s offer here,” he said. “I think you will find it more than fair.”
Theo raised his eyebrows, feeling somewhat ambushed now, with Norris one side of him and Prentice on the other. But he leaned forward and lifted the papers, his eyes widening at the sum Prentice was prepared to pay for Theo’s land—and the right to remove everyone who lived there presently.
“What about the main house?” he asked faintly, thinking of Mrs. Ford, kneading bread at the kitchen table in the mornings. Him and George sitting in front of the fire in the cosy parlour after dinner each evening.
“I won’t need it,” Prentice said airily. “The only buildings I might keep are the ones for the eastmost farm.” That was Morgan’s place. “The farmyard there could be a convenient location for the shearing operation—or I may build something new. I’ve not decided yet.”
Theo stared at the papers in his hands. Prentice was offering a substantial sum. Enough to finance another year or two on the Continent and still have a decent sum left over for Theo to establish himself when he returned.
But it was a sum Theo could not accept.
The strangest thing was, he didn’t actually feel disappointed. In fact, he felt oddly relieved to have this final option taken away.
He set the papers back on the table.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It is a very good offer, but… I must decline. I feel an obligation to my tenants.”
Prentice frowned, sending a quick accusing glance in Norris’s direction before returning his attention to Theo. “I was unaware you felt that way. I had the impression you were quite eager to sell.”
