Sir Robert didn’t respond; his gaze remained on Lucy. “I will take a careful look at your figures, Miss Whitaker, and consider my options, and we’ll speak again. You said conditions, plural. Are there other concerns?”
In for a penny…“My companion, Agnes, receives the housekeeper’s salary.”When she doesn’t refuse it in bad quarters. “I would like her to receive a quarter’s wages and references.”
“I’ll consider that as well,” he nodded, patting the ledgers. “Anything else?”
“Not exactly a condition. More of a warning.”
His right eyebrow rose in sardonic mockery now, “warning” finally pushing him to it. “Awarning,Miss Whitaker?”
“The man you sent to survey Willowbrook did not go unnoticed. Two young boys watched him work. It has caused much speculation among my—that is, your—tenants and some resentment. I told the boys—and their fathers come to that—not to interfere.”
His face darkened. “They should stay far away from strangers on the estate,” he agreed. “You as well.”
“I’ll do my best to keep them away, but if any harm comes to John and Andy, you will have much to answer for.”
He pressed his lips together. “Your warning is duly noted. The tenants object to surveying?”
“They object to mining on Willowbrook land they’ve farmed for generations,” she replied, glaring back at him, the words sour in her mouth. She had seen the impact of the mines in other parts of the county.
Their eyes held for a long moment, and she thought he would argue or ask a question. “You’ve given me enough to consider for one day, Miss Whitaker. I’ll let you know when I’ve finished my investigation.”
The sudden taste of bile burned down her throat as she rose, forcing him to do so as well. “In that case, I’ll bid you good day.”
What will I tell Agnes? We’ve had a reprieve, and he even dangled hope we might stay on, but a slim hope at that. If he opens a mine, though, I will have to leave. I won’t be able to bear it.
Chapter Ten
Rob watched Lucy’sgraceful progress across the taproom, his eyes fixated on her enticing derriere and the sway of her skirts. “Remarkable woman,” he murmured.
“Terrifying,” Eli shuddered. Their audience began to shuffle away in the woman’s wake, but he pitched his voice low.
Magnificent, more like. Steward, indeed!Rob thought. “I rode out across the land yesterday. If she is responsible for the improvements that I saw at Willowbrook versus the state of tenants on Caulfield land, I ought to keep her.”
“Hire her?” Eli hissed. “I thought the goal of this drama was to fortify her reputation—and yours.”
“Formidable and wise,” Rob went on, ignoring the comment.
“Putting funds in a bank different from the one Spangler manages for the heirs? Yes. Shrewd. Of course, I’ll have to confirm what she told us,” Eli said.
“Is the Ashmead Bank sound?” Rob asked.
Eli nodded. “Small, but well managed. Attached with the post office to Pratt’s print shop. It partners with a bank in Derby, clever move on Pratt’s part.”
Rob tapped the ledgers. “We’ll go over these carefully. If they are in order—and I expect they will be—you can compare the balances on both accounts to the records at both banks.”
“Will you give her the steward’s wages?” Old Robert asked, sauntering over to the table.
Rob studied Eli and could almost see the lad’s mind working over the novelty of the idea. He began to understand why his brother had chosen his profession.
“Is it legal?” Eli’s father asked.
“No. Yes. Maybe, but—” Eli’s face lit with concentration and curiosity. “Generally, a woman’s guardian would manage her funds,” he said as if to clarify the issues in his own mind. “If she were married, the money would go to her husband, of course. Does Miss Whitaker have a guardian? Do we know her age?”
“Those are questions for the Earl of Clarion,” Rob said.
“I’ll ask him when I ask to see the original deeds and will,” Eli nodded.
“What happened to a worker being entitled to wages…?’” Rob mused, looking up at the old man.
