“You are welcome to live here,” Guy said, making sure Eustace understood.
Eustace’s smile did not reach his eyes. “Thank you, but as soon as parliament sits I shall leave for London. As I have told you, the lease on your London townhouse does not expire until July. And when it does, it will take considerable time for the rooms to be made fit for your use. You’ll reside with me in Mayfair, of course.”
“Thank you for the offer. I expect I shall sell the townhouse and buy another in a better part of Town.”
“You have chosen a bride?”
“No. But I intend to marry as soon as possible.”
“You can select one from the next season of debutantes.”
“I am grateful for your kind offer, but I don’t plan to return to London immediately. There is much to see to here,” Guy said with a careful glance at Eustace. “I should like to visit the tenants. There does not seem to be many servants, and the house needs repair.” He ignored Eustace’s frown. “Come spring, the gardens can be tackled.”
“I did my best.” Eustace’s shoulders stiffened. “The war might have ended, but revolutionary talk fills the pamphlets and the newssheets. Workers prefer the city and bigger towns to the country now. It has been extremely hard to find suitable staff.”
“London appears to be filled with homeless soldiers and sailors, and the half-starved unemployed,” Guy said. “I wonder if I might find some suitable servants among them.”
Eustace shook his head. “Untrained and unscrupulous men are worse than none.”
“Then I shall write to a London employment service.”
“The cost to keep an estate this size has become crippling in recent years.”
It was Guy’s turn to frown. “And the tenant farmers?”
“The long years of war have left England impoverished,” Eustace reiterated. “There’s little money to be made on the land. Once you’ve recovered, I’ll instruct the office manager to show you the ledgers.”
His nostrils pinched, Eustace rose and excused himself, leaving Guy to eat alone. He cut up a piece of bacon. Things must change, and fast. He beckoned to the lone footman standing against the wall in his threadbare livery.
“Moodie, isn’t it? What is the estate manager’s name?”
“Mr. Ellis, my lord.”
“Find him and inform him I shall expect him in the library with his books at eleven o’clock.”
The footman bowed and left Guy to plan his day, attempting to ignore a persistent headache. If the weather permitted, he would ride out and search for his portmanteau. Guy was eager to visit the tenant farmers and see for himself what the true situation was. He needed more information before he accepted Eustace’s excuses. Throughout the years in exile, his father had found a way to send money, and his relative had been given a generous stipend for the upkeep of the estate.
Annoyed, Guy threw down his napkin and rose. What if the evidence Eustace demanded had been burned in the fire in France? Would he then be cast out as an imposter? It didn’t bare thinking about. He couldn’t sit around and do nothing. He’d hire workmen and gardeners who could begin preparing for spring. And he would call on his neighbors. Perhaps Digswell society would prove good company. No time like the present to learn the English ways.
The butler assisted him into his coat and handed him his hat and gloves. Guy walked out into fragile sunshine along the graveled drive to the stables. Perhaps his future wife was to be found here. The extraordinary happenings of the past few days troubled him, but when he tried to replay them in his mind, instead of the attack on his life, his mind returned to Simon. He gritted his teeth, which made his temple throb.
“Zut!”he muttered, startling the groom who hurried to greet him.
*
With a sinkingheart, Hetty spied her father’s carriage standing in front of the house. She rode straight into the stables. “We’ve been so worried, Miss Hetty.” Simon hurried to assist her down. “The storm was so fierce we couldn’t begin to search for you until this morning. Joseph and I went out at dawn. We’ve just got back.”
Hetty felt a stab of remorse. “I’m so sorry, Simon. Please thank Joseph. As you see, The General and I have suffered no injuries. I had to spend the night in the old Fortescue hunting lodge when the weather turned nasty. How long has my father been home?”
“His carriage has just arrived. I’m so relieved you’re here. I was wracking my brains for a way to tell him.”
“Before you tend to the carriage horses, could you see to The General, please? He is very hungry.”
“At once, Miss Hetty.” He led the horse away.
At the relief on Simon’s face, prickles of shame climbed Hetty’s neck. She ran through the walled kitchen garden and entered the house by the servants’ entrance. She met no one on the servants’ stairs and arrived at her bedchamber just as her father called to her from the bottom of the stairs.
“Are you there, Horatia? Where is that girl? Doesn’t she wish to greet her father?”
