Robert nodded, and the two proceeded to the library where they settled into leather chairs set by the fireplace. A blaze to take themorning chill off the room crackled in the hearth. Frederick glanced up at the empty spot above the mantel where the shepherdess painting had hung.
“I still am not accustomed to the little shepherd girl not being there,” he said.
“Is that what you wish to discuss?” Robert asked a bit sharply. “I thought I made myself quite plain as to my reasons for selling it.”
“No, no—that is not my topic. Be assured I did not mean to be critical of your decision.” Frederick took a deep breath. “What I wanted to discuss is this—you see, I realize I am just a curate—and quite a green one at that, but I was hoping to persuade you to increase my salary a bit above the thirty-seven pounds I was told to expect.”
Robert frowned. “Mr. Peabody is in charge of that; he pays you out of his own salary, which comes from his glebe lands and tithes. The amount is entirely up to him. In addition, you are already getting more than the average curate. Thirty-five pounds is standard, I am sure you know. I think he is giving you more because you are my brother, and he does not wish to appear stingy before me.”
“Yes, I am aware of that, of course. But, I was hopingyoumight be willing to supplement my wages from the estate’s accounts. You see—” Frederick broke off a moment and ran his tongue over his lips, which suddenly seemed dry. He could hardly believe he was going to speak this confession aloud. “—You see, I am hoping to soon make my intentions known to a certain young lady in the county, and I cannot hope to be accepted by her with my current poor prospects. Even though she and I may both live here in Brentwood after we wed—which would save me considerable money—I should like to have more to offer her.”
He studied Robert, noting an expression of disbelief on his brother’s face.
“I am all astonishment, Frederick,” Robert blurted. “That is…at four and twenty, you are certainly old enough to consider matrimony, but permit me to discourage you from approaching any young lady at this time, no matter how alluring her charms may be. You are just now ordained and starting out in your very first position. Greater things surely await, but you should get settled in your routine at Brentwood Parish before plunging into marriage. It seems to me that whomever this young lady may be, she certainly would be willing to wait a year or so should your affection be sincerely returned.” He paused, considering. “Unless she has a fortune to bring into the marriage—is that the case?”
Frederick shook his head. “No, I do not believe so. She comes from a good family, and is the daughter of a gentleman. But, I would not marry for riches. In fact, I am rather opposed to the whole idea of a dowry. It is so unseemly that a man must seem to be bribed to take on a lady, do not you agree?”
Robert laughed. “On the contrary, a healthy dowry has been the making of many a great alliance between families. Why, our own mother brought three thousand pounds into marriage with her even though our father had no need of it—theirs was a match of the hearts as well. But, to return to my larger point—I think you should wait a while before taking such a significant step. You have not declared yourself to this young lady yet, have you? Please, tell me you have not.”
Frederick shook his head vehemently. “Oh, no, be not concerned over that. I wish to get to know her much better. But, based on our few encounters, Idothink she would be inclined to care for me as well. We seem quite compatible. I would just wish to have a slightly better income to offer along with my affections.” He saw a look of relief flash across Robert’s face.
“Good. Then, should she be inclined toward you, she will not be tempted by another and in a year or so, you may propose an understanding between the two of you. By then, with more experience under your belt, and, who knows—you may have an offer of a parishof your own. But, if not, then at least I am certain I could see my way to supplementing your wages.” He shrugged. “That is the best I can promise at this time.”
Frederick nodded slowly. “I see. Thank you, Robert. I just—well, I have not ever met anyone who seemed as lovely and amiable to me as this particular lady does. To me, she is everything I should wish for in a wife. But, you are correct, of course. We do not know each other that well. It is too soon to confess my admiration for her.”
“Exactly,” Robert agreed. “Should the match be true, it will grow as it may, and easily survive a year or so before we have to read the banns out in church.” He smiled warmly and gestured to his desk. “Now, if you will excuse me, Freddy, I have much to do.”
Frederick rose. “Yes, of course. I must get to work on my sermon as well. Thank you, Robert.” He nodded and exited the library.
*
Robert picked upsome letters piled on his desk, hoping they contained more than demands for money. It occurred to him that he was so adamant in advising Frederick to wait before declaring himself that he had failed to ask who the young lady in question was. Oh, well. It was not likely to be anyone he knew.
Probably some girl he met at the last assembly. I am glad he did not fight me on increasing his salary. With all my debts, that is the last thing I can afford just now. And, I must concentrate on wooing the wealthy Miss Kendall—my future wife and salvation of Brentwood.
That settled, Robert put his brother’s request out of his mind and continued to deal with his correspondence.
Chapter Eighteen
“Welcome, welcome,” Robertsaid heartily as Charlotte, Dorothea, and Reginald entered Brentwood Estate on a sunny afternoon. He caught the sly smile and arched eyebrows that Lady Gillingham directed at Charlotte. He knew Dorothea was impressed that he should be waiting for them in the entry hall, rather than in a reception room. Good. Let her believe his ardor toward her little sister was both sincere and enthusiastic. Her approval for an immediate marriage after his proposal was paramount to him getting his hands on that fat dowry as soon as possible.
Robert bowed to his guests, and they returned the salutation. He carefully studied the countenance of the object of his desire. She appeared a bit shy, although clearly not unhappy to be there. He stepped forward and offered his arm to her which, after a slight hesitation, she smiled and accepted.
“I am so pleased that you could arrive well before we dine so that I may show you Brentwood Estate, Miss Kendall,” he said smoothly. “Many rooms are at their best in the afternoon light. Although I realize it is nothing to Haverstone, it is still a lovely home with many gardens. Our roses are in full bloom just now, although I do not believe I have the same fine touch with that flower as does your dear sister. Her roses are the envy of the county.” He chuckled and gave a glance back to Dorothea, who beamed at him.
“And, of course, Brentwood has one other claim on your interest, Miss Kendall,” he continued. “It is so conveniently located to your own family. That must be seen as a great advantage.”
Charlotte gave a sharp inhalation at his implication but, before she could respond, he gently steered her farther into the room and pointed out the features of the entry hall, describing the renovations that had rendered it into such an elegant space. The soft, white walls held many beautiful landscape and floral paintings, and gold-leafed scrolls above the doorways and down the sides of pillars caught the light, adding to the overall warm, yet airy feeling. He commented on a few works of art here and there, before stopping before one of the few paintings featuring a person—an imposing portrait of an older gentleman dressed in the attire of a few generations ago.
“Randall Morton. My great-grandfather,” he said simply. “He was the one who redid much of Brentwood in the early 1700s, adding two wings and turning it into a more gracious home from the original 1600s version, which was, according to my understanding, a suitable, but unrefined home.”
“No one could ever think it wanting in elegance now, Mr. Morton,” Charlotte said, gesturing around her. “It is all so very lovely. As for your relative—he looks stern, but I perceive a bit of twinkle in his eyes, I believe. Tell me, have all the past gentlemen of Brentwood been captured for posterity?”
“It is a family tradition, yes. You will see the others in the picture gallery, upstairs.”
He caught a bit of a teasing smile on her face.
“Will I seeyourportrait there? Have you been painted yet, Mr. Morton?” she asked.
