“Not as much as your situation demands. At least not in most cases. Two sons, including my brother, Rob, got small estates. One was left a store but no cash, and he was cheated out of that. Most got the odd artifact.”
“Sons got the land?”
He didn’t deny it. “I’m not saying Clarion won’t help as much as he can.”
“But not enough to enable us to go on as we have.”
“Unlikely.”
“Will he help me care for the children, Eli?”
“Yes. Or I will.
*
If you marryher, you can care for all of them.Alarm shot through Eli at that thought.Where did that come from? You don’t owe the Caulfield family your life for goodness’ sake.
“You mean you’ll see that he does,” she said, wrinkling up her forehead.
“Yes. That’s it. I’ll be responsible for administering aid.” He stumbled through his words.
“First, we need to sell the inventory. I can slash the prices and still get more than that bank would allow us.”
She may be dainty. She may be young. But Fanny Hancock understands business.
“What will you do if you sell the store?” he asked, suddenly curious. “I mean to say, what will you need?”
“A roof over our heads and food on the table, at least until my books are published.”
Eli felt as if she had struck him with a brick. “Books?”
Fanny colored brightly and looked away. “A dream.” She jerked her head back and raised her chin. “No. A determination. I’m going to publish books. They should bring enough to feed the children eventually.”
She had astounded him again. Eli knew next to nothing about the publishing business. Popular novels seemed to sell briskly, but how hard was it to write one? Difficult, he suspected, but even more difficult to get the attention of a publisher. She’d explained her dream, and it turned out to be the one thing he couldn’t help her with.
He’d been in Manchester almost ten days, and it was past time he went home. Too many unresolved issues kept him here, however, Edwards chief among them. The weasel lurked about the neighborhood, watching them. Two nights before, Eli had awoken to a sound in the street. The look on Edwards’s face through the plate-glass window in the moonlight when Eli had popped up from behind the table, lantern in hand, had been priceless. The miscreant had been holding a brick. He’d run like a coward.
Eli took a deep breath. At least one issue had resolved itself. She had come around to selling without him needing to persuade her to it. “I’ll wish you well in that,” he said. “But I have one suggestion.”
She waited, one brow raised impatiently.
“The cost of living in Manchester is steep. You cannot remain here. Come back to Ashmead with me.” He didn’t—he wouldn’t—mention Edwards and his threats.
Eli’s words hung in the air for a moment while Fanny considered them. She answered at last, “I will come, if just to meet this earl, and only if Wil and Amy may come, too.”
