Well done, Miss Whitaker. Never show weakness.
He gestured to a chair and, for a moment, he thought she might not take it, but she sat and placed the leather-bound ledgers on the table, covering them with her hands as if to protect them. She nodded at Eli.
Rob watched her, distracted by the rise and fall of her chest with each deep breath.She won’t give up her privileges easily.“Before we examine the books, madam, I wish to make it clear that I have elected to take ownership of the property upon which you currently reside.” He turned to his brother. “Eli…”
Eli took out the papers that would put Willowbrook in Rob’s hands. Pen and ink sat on the table in readiness. “Having examined the bequest and found no legal difficulties, I judge my brother, Sir Robert Benson, the rightful owner of Willowbrook, and am prepared to witness his signature,” he announced, his voice carrying to the room.
My little brother appears tempted to apologize to the woman, but his solicitor’s heart won’t let him.Rob suppressed his own smile. He took the pen and signed, handing the pen to Eli, who added his own signature.
She has no way of knowing I mean her no harm,Rob thought.The next gesture feels harsh, but it’s necessary.
“Miss Whitaker, may we ask you to witness my brother’s signature as well?” Eli asked softly.
*
Lucy stiffened.Theoaf ordered me here to announce my eviction.She forced herself to stay seated, counting backward in her head to gain control of her temper.One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight…Sir Robert studied her implacably, waiting for her compliance. She couldn’t honestly find insult in Eli Benson’s request or his brother’s coldly businesslike manner, but humiliation warred with dread.What choice do I have? None.
She took the pen with a shaking hand and signed her witness to the document transferring her home from the Clarion estate to Sir Robert Benson, sick at the reminder it was never hers.
“Congratulations, sir. Willowbrook is yours,” she said through stiff lips, almost choking on the words. “I am prepared to depart in thirty days, provided my conditions are met.”
His intense green eyes flew open, and Lucy had the satisfaction of confounding his plan, whatever it might be.But is it my willingness to leave or my “conditions” gambit that took him off guard?
The blasted man recovered quickly, and his eyes narrowed. Something in his shifting posture let her hope she had gained at least a crumb of respect. “Conditions, Miss Whitaker? What might those be?”
A sound behind her, people shifting in their seats, reminded Lucy they had an audience.Best get on with it.
“First, I request a salary for my stewardship of Willowbrook from the reading of the old earl’s will until now,” she said, raising her chin a tick and keeping eye contact.
The baronet’s gaze glittered, and she hoped it wasn’t amusement. Mockery would destroy her courage. “A housekeeper’s salary, I presume,” he said.
“Hardly. A steward’s salary,” she insisted. She paused, but when he didn’t immediately question her, she rushed on. “I’ve had the care of Willowbrook since my sister fell ill, and the earl turned his attention elsewhere. I oversee planting and the dairy. I see to the rents and the needs of the tenants.”
“And manage the bee yard?” he put in.
“Correct. And cheese production. If you examine the ledgers, you will see that we’ve had a tidy profit these past few years.” She drew breath for courage. No mockery had come, and his expression had shifted to actual interest. She glanced at Eli Benson and got to the meat of her message. “You will also see that I put aside every year an amount I considered a fair wage for my work.”
That startled both men. Eli Benson cleared his throat. “That would explain Spangler’s assertion that you’ve been skimming money from the estate,” he said. From the look on Sir Robert’s face, he hadn’t heard that libelous accusation.
“The funds sit in escrow in the Ashmead Bank.”
“Rather than the earl’s bank in Nottingham?” Sir Robert asked.
“Correct. All proceeds, with the exception of the bit I put aside, were sent to Mr. Spangler at the earl’s request. Mr. Spangler has an account for the heirs in a bank in Nottingham. I thought it wise to keep the wages separate, pending your decision. You will find the account numbers in the ledgers.” Her hands tightened over the smooth leather binding. This time she was certain she saw respect when he nodded. “You will find I haven’t touched the money. I’m asking for it now.”
“As your wages for stewardship,” Sir Robert murmured. He reached over and pulled the ledgers across the table. She clenched her teeth against the temptation to grab them back. “I will examine your figures,” he went on. “I’m certain we can come to a fair settlement. Are you determined to leave if your conditions are met?”
“I—” She knew her mouth gaped. It was the last question she expected. “I assume you will wish to take up residence.” She studied his face.What a puzzling man.
“Hardly. My life is in London, Miss Whitaker. I have yet to decide how to dispose of Willowbrook.”
Dispose?He spoke of Willowbrook as if it were an unwanted puppy, not Lucy’s entire life.
“In the meantime, I would prefer to have a steward in place. It is unfortunate that you were thrust into that role. I can hire one, of course, whether you choose to stay or leave, but I hope you will consider staying until I do so. If you prefer to stay in residence permanently, I will, of course, expect you to pay rent until such time as I decide to sell the place.”
Lucy began to squirm under his scrutiny. He expected a reaction, but she couldn’t decide what he wanted. It didn’t matter. She knew her own mind. She swallowed hard. “If you find after your examination that my service is adequate, I would prefer to remain as steward as long as you have need of one.”
“A woman steward is unheard of,” Eli Benson muttered, peering at his brother.
