With a languid stretch, Garrett leaned forward and rested the fishing pole on a carefully selected rock. He and Stone had been sitting by the lake for over an hour. They’d each caught a few good-sized fish but released them for future sport. Under some very large oaks, they sat partly in sunshine and partly in shade. The strain of the past month began to ease away as he leaned against a smooth boulder.
Stone’s voice broke the lazy silence. “I cannot believe Joseph, the youngest of us boys, was the first to get himself leg-shackled.” He chuckled. “He’s even beaten Natalie to the altar.”
Agreeing with his friend’s sentiment toward marriage, Garrett grinned. “Perhaps all the Spencer brothers will wed before her. You and Darlington have dodged the matchmaking mamas easily enough, though. How did you manage to escape the responsibilities of the Season?” Garrett could hardly fathom that Lady Ravensdale had allowed her two oldest sons to forgo the marriage mart so easily.
“Not much choice in the matter.” Stone’s eyes turned serious. “We’re having labor issues at our few estates up north.Father required our presence there. The Corn Laws have done nothing but create dissension.” He grimaced. “Things are going to have to change here in England if we wish to avoid taking the same course as France. Many workers have already taken flight to America. What choice do they have when they cannot afford to feed their families? It’s a difficult role we play. We are landlords and yet also sympathizers. There is only so much one family can do.”
Garrett knew Lord Ravensdale opposed protectionism. The earl had not been born into wealth and position but had inherited his title after establishing a lucrative career as a barrister. The man had not forgotten the challenges of laboring for one’s living.
Stone groaned. “Unfortunately, I don’t see the situation righting itself anytime soon.” He glanced sideways at Garrett. “How are matters at Maple Hall?”
“It’s odd.” Garrett rubbed his chin. “Until last week, it had been over ten years since I was last there, and yet, even with the manor burned to the ground, it feels like home. At the risk of waxing poetic, I believe I have something of a connection with the land itself.” An old memory stirred to life. “My grandfather’s old steward, Mr. Pinyon, most certainly is responsible.” Idly chewing on a stem of grass, Garrett stared across the water. The last time he’d gone fishing was before his father had sent Mr. Pinyon away.
“He taught you estate management?” Stone asked.
“More than that.” Garrett pulled his knees up and rested his arms upon them. “He made me feel as though I belonged. He introduced me to people—taught me that one person alone does not own the estate. The land, the crops, the workers, and the tenants—they are all a part of it, dependent upon one another to produce and sustain their families.”
“That poor man can’t have lasted very long with your father.”
“He didn’t.” Garrett had long ago buried such memories. “I trailed after him every chance I could. And then when I returned from school one holiday, I discovered Father had sent him packing.” Garrett had been devastated.
“There must be some satisfaction now,” Stone finally said, “in that the management of the estate falls to you.” The two men fell silent again. Garrett contemplated the twinkling reflections created on the water as a breeze stirred the hot air.
“I can only hope the bastard didn’t wait too long to die,” Garrett murmured. The task at Maple Hall was a herculean one. “Many fences need mending now, both literally and figuratively.”
Stone set his pole aside and sent Garrett a pointed stare. “Are you through gadding about, then? Are you done living life to spite your father?”
Garrett considered taking offence with his friend’s statement. But this was Stone talking, after all. They’d never dissembled with each other, so why be offended?
And yes, the time for change was upon him. As the new earl, with hundreds relying upon the estate for their livelihood, he could no longer deny his birthright.
“To some extent.” And then he let out a cynical bark of laughter. “Your sister believes my reputation can be restored and that this damned house party is the place to do so.” He looked sideways at Stone. “You did not tell me half of London would be here when you invited me. Not well done of you, my friend, not well done at all.”
Stone merely chuckled. “Well, I’ve just returned myself. Had I known of all this hullabaloo I would have planned to meet you elsewhere. And I suppose I could have carted your crates and trunks to Maple Hall myself…” Pulling a pastry out of the basket Mrs. Winston had -sent along with them, Stone took a bite and then a long drink from his flask. “Natalie said that, eh? Be careful, she may make you into one of her projects. She’s bored silly and will do anything for a diversion.”
Garrett shook his head, mentally recalling the lady in question. “I can hardly comprehend her jilting the Duke of Cortland. Your father must have been livid.”
“He very nearly had her under house arrest in London, from what I understand. Now that she’s here, she is forbidden to attend any house parties or assemblies. We’ll see how long she stays out of trouble. I think she’s less content than my parents would believe. She had more than one reason, I am certain, for breaking off her engagement, but she doesn’t talk about it. Simply says she didn’t love him.” He laughed. “Women.”
Garrett pondered this. Why does any young woman throw a man over? It ought to be plain as day—she wants something else, or someoneelse. “Lady Natalie and your parents were more than kind to me during nuncheon,” Garrett said. “They made it obvious they expected the same behavior from their guests.”
“I saw that. Perhaps Natalie is on to something.”
Dammit. The chit may just have been right.
Upon entering the dining room with her, seeing some of the all-too-familiar faces he had left London to avoid, Garrett had braced himself for unpleasantness. His first thought was that Stone had betrayed him. His second was to turn on his heel and arrange for his departure. But Lady Natalie had stood beside him with her hand tucked neatly into his arm.
“Father,” she had said brightly, “look who I found! Lord Hawthorne graciously offered his escort when we met in the corridor upstairs. Mother has prepared Joseph’s chamber for him. With all the guest rooms occupied, I thought that very clever of her.”
The Earl of Ravensdale had risen from his seat and approached Garrett with an outstretched hand.
“Welcome, Hawthorne. Josephine and I were both delighted to hear you were joining our little house party. My beautiful countess has planned several activities, but I hope we can find time to discuss business as well.” The earl’s eyes had been friendly and his handshake hearty. The countess also came forward to greet him personally and yet very publicly.
After seeing their esteemed host and hostess receive Garrett so graciously, the other guests were given no choice but to welcome him as well. And, although reserved, none had condescended to him in any way.
Even Lady Eleanor Sheffield did not shun him outright. It had been her niece Garrett’s father kidnapped and then attempted to murder. If anyone were to object to his presence, this lady in particular had every reason to do so. But she had not. She had watched Garrett closely. She was curious, likely, and with ample justification, guarded.
The nuncheon had not been the ordeal he expected, and by the end of the meal, he realized he’d been extended equal courtesy to every other guest. Not one failed to meet his eyes.
