“I have another engagement,” Langford said.
“I am free, however,” Stratton said.
They thought he had not seen the meaningful look they shared before answering. He led the way out, assuming Stratton would be doing some poking now too.
* * *
He could not gallop forever, so he eventually slowed his horse to a walk. On one side, the Thames flowed rapidly. On the other, Stratton fell into place beside him while they passed the string of low buildings that flanked the river outside London.
“Have you decided what to do about Miss MacCallum? You seem to be holding your fire. Langford thinks it is because of the fascination he attributes to you.”
“Langford’s head might get turned fast by any passing pretty face, but Brentworths are made of sterner stuff.”
“Then you find her pretty?”
He shot Stratton a glance in time to see his grin.
“Attractive enough.”
Another grin. “If I were Langford, I would askenough for what?”
“Thank God you are not he, then.”
They paced on. Stratton surveyed the scenery. Eric watched him do so.
“You may as well say now whatever it is you are going to say eventually, Stratton.”
“I thought to let some time pass first, so it does not appear I am—”
“Poking? Well, you are, so get it over with.”
“As I said, you seem to be holding your fire. I will leave that observation there, and suggest that if you do not want to engage in battle with the woman, perhaps you should seek a truce.”
“A truce requires compromise. Even if I were willing, she is not.”
“You do not know that. The thinking is that perhaps half a loaf will satisfy her. Half the lands, for example. Or a settlement for half the value.”
“Pay her off, you mean, to be rid of the nuisance. That is the thinking. Can I ask whose thinking?”
“Langford’s and mine.”
“And?”
“Fine. The ladies have weighed in as well. Do not give me that Teutonic look of yours. Clara thinks as clearly as any man and is excellent at strategy, and Amanda brings special skills to any such discussion.”
“They are her friends. Their opinions are not objective.”
“And yours are? How big is this property that you are allowing your name to be dragged through the gossip mill and are risking your influence in government? What are the rents? Do you even know? Have you ever been there?”
“It consists of about a thousand hectares. The tenants mostly raise sheep, so the rents vary but are respectable.”
Silence greeted that. It stretched. They approached a tavern and Eric considered whether he fancied a pint.
“So you do know something about this land,” Stratton said.
“It is my obligation to.”
“Is it true the house is a ruin? Have you ever seen it?”
