“Mr. Hallaway, William, you are free to return to your duties,” his mother instructed.
While William hesitated, not certain what to do, Hallaway marched out of the office without a word or acknowledgment.
There was something odd about his estate manager, but he also increased the profits of Wyndview Farm yearly, so perhaps Sterling could overlook his eccentricity.
“You may go,” Sterling finally said to William, who hurried after his father.
Why were they so reluctant to meet with him? It wasn’t as if Sterling had any complaints as to how the estate was being managed. He simply had questions that he hoped would offer more clarification as to why decisions had been made, such as he now knew that the decision to plant tobacco had been at the suggestion of his younger brother.
“What other advice has Avery given for the estate?” Sterling asked his mother.
“Oh, I would not know dear,” his mother answered innocently.
Sterling narrowed his eyes. Yes, she did. She just didn’t want to tell him, but why?
“Does that mean that he writes directly to Hallaway and you are told nothing?”
“Suggestions get mentioned occasionally but as I am not the onewho makes the decisions for the estate and I simply live here, I am rarely consulted.”
Sterling practically snorted. His mother was knowledgeable about everything that happened at Wyndview Farm and likely managed those around her. Or, she had when his entire family had lived here.
“When do you plan on leaving?” she asked abruptly.
He tried to ignore the sudden stab of pain at her words. He had only just begun to consider what she had told him about Father’s part in their separation, but maybe it had been a lie and she really did not want to be around her children. “Do you want me gone soon, Mother?”
Her eyes widened. “No. Of course not,” she insisted. “In fact, I hope that you remain through March.”
It was only the end of January, but at least she wasn’t sending him away immediately, not that she had the power to do so. “Why is that?”
“So that you can be present for the grape harvest and making of the wine. Only then will Mr. Hallaway have the time to properly meet with you.”
“A month?” Sterling nearly yelled. More than a month.
“Yes, at least,” she answered calmly.
Sterling gaped at her. One would think they were discussing an afternoon tea, not an extended delay in his travels before he sailed to Maderia.
“Certainly, you recall from your childhood that you rarely saw your father during the months of January, February, and March.”
Sterling tried to remember, but the months flowed together…except, that last year when they were here. He had begged his father to let him help and had been taken along to watch the workers cut the bunches of grapes from the vines and start to destem them before he had been sent back to the house. That had been not long after Twelfth Night and they rarely saw his father until early April, just as his mother said. His father had promised that the following year Sterling would be old enough to take part, but they were forced to sail for London before the next harvest arrived.
Hallaway now had the same duties as his father and very likely had little time for an audience with Sterling.
“Very well, Mother. I will wait until a more convenient time to meet with Mr. Hallaway, but I am not promising a month. I have been away from England too long already.”
This also meant that he would likely not be able to return to England before the Season came to an end thus making it impossible for him to settle on a bride. One of the reasons he had intended for this visit to be short was because he needed to get back home. He had a duty to wed and produce an heir and a spare, which he should have put his attention to before now, but he’d also wanted to see the world, or the part of it that made his family wealthy, so his plan had been to travel, then settle on a bride. That would likely now be put off for yet another year.
He could insist that Hallaway meet with him in the evenings, after the sun had gone down because it was unlikely he would be working in the fields then. Except, the man might be too exhausted. His father had been, with little time for his sons or wife.
Yes, Sterling was beginning to recall the harvest months when he and his brothers had sat on the hill and looked down at the servants cutting the grapes and how he couldn’t wait to fully participate.
Blast!
He really hadn’t wanted to remain in the Cape beyond a fortnight. What could he possibly do to occupy his time between now and then, if he could not meet with his estate manager, other than walk the farm, which would only take a day, at the most?
*
Caroline had followedher father and brother from the house andto their own.
