Page 3 of Their Wildest Dreams

Benedict looked at the papers but did not touch them. “How much can you pay?”

“Almost none of it.”

There was no purpose in asking how matters had gone so far. Pride and poor judgment had some part in it, but neither could be corrected before the first. “What security does he hold?”

“The eastern farms, the south meadow and, if the remaining balance is not satisfied, a claim against the income of the estate.”

His father swore under his breath. Benedict understood why. The eastern acreage bordered Selby’s land and included the lower road. More importantly, the stream crossing the south meadow continued onto Denham property and supplied one of their mills. Selby had not chosen the notes at random.

“Will he sell the debt?” Benedict asked.

“I approached him about that before coming here,” Alderley said. “He refused.”

“Because he wants the land.”

“Yes.” The viscount sat at last. “I had hoped the Oxfordshire property would sell. It has not. Selby knows I cannot meet his terms, and he has no intention of extending them again.”

Benedict reviewed the documents with his father. The arrangement was predatory, but it appeared to be legal. Selby had acquired several older debts from other lenders, then advanced Alderley enough money to place all of them under terms favorable to himself. Lord Alderley had signed because he needed the funds and believed he would be in a better position before they came due.

Men had lost estates on less foolish hopes.

“What are you asking of us?” the earl said.

Alderley’s expression tightened. “I do not know. That is why I came. If there is an accommodation to be made that protects your water rights, perhaps Denham might purchase an interest in the eastern land and allow me to retain the farms.”

“There is no value in purchasing an interest while Selby holds the debt,” Benedict said. “He could still take possession and challenge every right we claimed.”

“Then purchase the land outright.”

“And turn your tenants into ours?” Benedict shook his head. “You would have money enough to discharge Selby, but Alderley would lose the most productive part of the estate. The remainder could not support the house.”

Lord Alderley looked away. “Then there is no answer.”

“There may be,” the earl said, though his tone held little conviction. “Forty thousand pounds can be found. The greater question is what happens afterward. I will not pay Selby only to see you in the same position again within five years.”

“Nor would I expect it.”

Benedict moved to the window. Alderley Hall was hidden beyond the trees, but he could see the line of the eastern hills. The land between the two estates had never felt divided to him. He had ridden over it as a boy with his cousins, fought and argued with Harriet over every inch of it, it seemed, throughout their youth. He’d fished its stream with her father and, years ago, carried Harriet home across it after she fell from a pony and refused to admit her ankle hurt.

She had been angry with him then too. Harriet’s anger was one of the most dependable things in his life.

He thought of her leaving the drawing room the previous night. When she returned, the color had gone from her face. Benedict had nearly followed her, but she had taken a seat beside her aunt and made it plain she did not wish to speak to him. He wondered now if she had known what her father meant to reveal this morning.

In all of it, one thing kept coming back to him. She’d be left completely ruined and unprotected. She had not secured a match during her first season, though it had been quite apparent she had not been angling for one. But now, with no older brothers, the entail on the estate was broken. There was no one to leave it to and Alderley, should something happen to the Viscount, could be swept from beneath her without a by your leave. And she loved the land. Every rock and blade of grass on Alderley’s lands held a place in her heart—a heart that, despite her sometimes prickly exterior, he knew to be quite tender and easily wounded. It would destroy her.

“The land would have to be protected from further debt,” Benedict said. “Denham would require control of the road and assurance that the stream could not be diverted. Whatever arrangement we make must join the interests of the estates without simply consuming Alderley.”

“It seems to me,” his mother said from the doorway, “that joining the families would accomplish all of that.”

The three men turned. Lady Denham entered the library without apology. Benedict suspected she had been listening, although she would deny anything so vulgar and call it waiting for an appropriate moment to enter.

“This is a private discussion,” the earl said. There was little heat in his tone, of course. He’d long accustomed himself to not being able to curb his wife’s tongue nor the opinions which wielded it.

“Then you should not conduct it in the one room I must pass to reach the morning room.” She took the empty chair near Lord Alderley. “I know Selby holds the debt. I know Denham can pay it but requires an interest in the land. I also know Lord Alderley has an unmarried daughter and we have an unmarried son.”

Benedict understood before she said more. “No.”

His mother glanced at him. “That was swift.”