Learning what he could might mean all kinds of things with Ives.
“Do you intend to question Devonshire?” Gareth asked.
“Do I look mad? He is coming for the interment, however.”
“I would not have thought Percy would have found any favor with Devonshire.”
“He didn’t. At all. The last duke once called him a miserable little demon. At best it is a matter of rank respecting itself. A duke dies and other dukes attend his funeral. At worst, the current Duke of Devonshire is coming to drive a stake into Percy’s heart.”
“Perhaps Lance will broach the topic for you.I say there, Devvie, what do you think became of all that art your father agreed to store in your attics?He would do it if you asked.”
“The danger is he will do it even if I don’t ask. Do not remind him of the matter. He knows of it, of course. All the lords do. Those who lost have not been silent among their peers. Since none of ours went missing, our brother is unlikely to think of it unless prodded.”
“How will you explain my little mission to him, then?”
“I was not intending to explain anything. We have never expected an accounting of your comings or goings.”
In other words, the new Duke of Aylesbury would not give a damn why Gareth was going north.
“If you arrange for me to have use of the lodge, we have ourselves a bargain.”
Ives stood. “I promise to see that legacy wholly resolved, once this other business is behind us. Until then, Lance will agree it is only right that you should use it as your own.”
It was all the assurance Gareth needed. Lance could be willful, even whimsical, but he was fair. A clean deed would be forthcoming sooner rather than later now. That derelict pile would be his, and he could start improving it. He followed Ives back to the house, making plans.
CHAPTER4
“The big house has been let, I hear.” Rebecca mentioned the news while she sat on a burlap sack, watching Eva pluck weeds. The plantings behind their home had been laid out for flowers and shrubbery, but Eva had started tucking vegetables amid the blooms three years ago. It saved them a few pounds a year on food, all for little effort.
Growing vegetables had been the last of a long string of economies, and the one Eva least minded. Her father had sold off most of the land, and what was left brought in minimal rents. Her late brother’s five years of infirmity meant he had not been able to supplement their income with any kind of employment, not that Nigel would have taken up a trade even if he had had the health to do so. He had been a gentleman’s son and intended to die a gentleman himself, even if it meant his older sister had to sell the household furnishings to ensure they all had enough to eat.
“Who has taken it? I cannot imagine anyone wanting to live there,” Eva said.
“No one knows, but some boys saw a light through the lower windows two nights ago, and there are reports of a horse in the stable.”
“If not for the horse, I would say it was all nonsense and some of Langdon End’s young men had decided to get drunk there one night.”
“Whoever it is, I expect they will make themselves known in town soon. They are sure to be quality people. Even in its present state, the rent would be high for such a large house and property.”
“I expect so.” Eva hoped the rumors were wrong, and that at worst the house’s owner had sent a servant to stay a brief while. Perhaps some traveler had simply made use of an empty house and would soon be on his way. She had come to think of that house as abandoned and rather counted on it remaining so.
“I think you should call on them,” Rebecca said. “Perhaps they have a daughter who would be my friend.”
“I will do that if you promise not to complain that our house is not suitable for guests, since they are bound to then call on us in turn.”
Rebecca flushed. “Maybe if they have a daughter I will meet her in town.”
“Maybe you should allow her to know your circumstances when you meet her. There is no shame in our situation, and if this imaginary new friend is worthy of the name, she will not care.”
Rebecca stood abruptly, her brow knitted from her pique. “I do not mind our situation, but I do resent your acceptance of it. Instead of improving, it gets worse and now I cannot even have friends, because we do not have enough chairs since you sold them all.”
“I sold them so you would not go hungry. And, of course, our situation is improving, even if you do not see the fruits of that yet. Our year of mourning is now over, and we can participate in society again. You can attend assemblies and meet other girls in town, and if you can restrain yourself from talking aboutphilosophy in the first few conversations, you will find friends who will change everything.”
“I am not speaking of social matters.”
“Financial ones, then? My paintings are selling well enough so our circumstances are not so dire as they were, even with the bad harvest and unpaid rents. I think I am doing splendidly.” She smiled and gave her sister a wink. “You are uncommonly out of sorts, Rebecca. It is not like you to complain with such vehemence.”
Her attempt at lightening the conversation was to no avail. “What happens if no one wants your paintings someday?” Rebecca asked.
