Page 58 of The Widow’s Christmas Surprise

“Ah, Kit. I pray you are finally at peace.” He lifted the seal and unfolded the page. Two brief lines told of his brother’s passing. And that Mr. Lambert had informed the magistrate both of the death and the suspected cause—a self-inflicted pistol shot to the jaw. Life in Lavenham was about to get ugly.

Carefully, Hugh refolded the letter and slipped it in his pocket. It was early yet. He and Bella could quickly pack what was necessary and leave for home within the hour. First, however, he’d need to inform Lord Kersey that his absence from Kersey Hall would be required for some days. He dreaded this interview almost more than the coming procedure with the magistrate.

Lord Kersey had been in a rare mood since last week when Maria delivered her little surprise. Saunders had been on duty at the party in the drawing room, but had been called downstairs to fetch more punch for the ladies. He had heard raised voices in the receiving room and had managed to linger long enough to hear most of Maria’s harangue. Lord, what he wouldn’t have given to have been able to hear her—and see Kersey’s face when he learned his easy life had just become a deal harder.

All week Hugh had walked a tightrope, in an effort to keep his relationship with Maria from Kersey’s notice. How anyone who looked at him didn’t guess the truth, he could not fathom. Each time he thought about her, which was constantly, he would stop and stare into thin air, remembering a particular moment he had been with her: in the garden in October, the tea party with his sister and her cousin, the morning they’d spent in the dowager’s bedchamber. He didn’t allow himself to recall that memory unless he was alone. Embarrassing things sometimes happened when that memory was particularly vivid.

In any case, news that Hugh had won the affections of the new heiress would not likely bode well for him, or for the job that now stood between him and destitution. Any excuse to sack him or any other non-essential servant would be welcomed, he suspected. The fact that the house party that was supposed to last until the New Year had been shortened to the day after Christmas showed that Kersey was fully aware of the scope of the properties over which he no longer had control. Thus the lord’s evil temper had shown itself in new ways. What he would say when Hugh asked permission to leave was anyone’s guess.

Winding his way down the corridor, Hugh sought out Chambers as the one person who would know where Lord Kersey was currently drinking. On the way to the butler’s pantry, he cocked his ear as he passed by the library. The unmistakable clink of glass on glass suggested he’d found his man. He pushed the door open and strode in.

Lord Kersey stood by the sideboard, a decanter of brandy in one hand, a well-used glass in the other.

Not the best time, perhaps, to ask for a leave of absence, but then these days there wasn’t a good time to ask his lordship anything.

“Granger. There you are.” Kersey staggered forward a step. “By God, where the hell have you been hiding?”

“I’ve been in my office all morning, my lord. Totaling up the incomes from the outer tenant farms as you requested.” It had been a waste of time as the figures remained the same as the ones he’d totaled last month and in October as well.

“And?”

“No change, my lord.” Hugh hesitated, then went on. “There won’t be a change until the cabbage and leek crops are harvested in late January. That is the way the rotations have been staggered since I came here to work for the old earl.”

“Damned tenants. Why can’t they produce crops year round?” He stared blearily at Hugh. “Can’t they plant year round?”

“They can and do, my lord. But to get the best yields, there are periods when fields have to lie fallow, to allow them to recover from the previous planting.” Clenching his fist at having to explain the idea of crop rotation to a drunken man who would not remember it tomorrow, and would likely ask yet again, Hugh focused on shifting the conversation to his request.

“Too many fields not producing anything. Too many tenants not producing anything.” Lord Kersey’s head came up and he stared at Hugh, a snarl on his lips. “And why in God’s name haven’t you gotten rid of that family on the farm that’s supposed to be rented by now?”

Hugh’s heart sank, all his other worries melting away as the plight of the Tates came quickly forward. “I put the notices up, my lord. There have been no inquiries to my knowledge.”

“Then your knowledge is limited, Granger. A letter arrived yesterday asking if the tenancy was available.” Kersey poured another glass full. “I instructed Chambers to answer the man in the affirmative. He’ll be here, ready to move in on Saturday.”

“On Saturday, my lord? With so little notice, the Tate family will scarcely have time to find a place to move into.” All Hugh could think, even with disaster looming for the Tates, was that he had failed Maria one final time.

“That is no concern of mine.” Kersey took a long pull of his drink. “They should have made provisions long before now.”

“But my lord—”

“Saddle up and ride out there now. Tell them they have two days to vacate the tenancy or their things will be tossed into the yard. Is that clear, Granger?” Kersey’s voice boomed in the enclosed space.

“Yes, my lord.” Hugh closed his eyes and imagined the fountain out in the garden, Maria in her pale gray gown, shimmering like a star, and her adamant stance that the Tates be given a chance to recover from Mr. Tate’s death. As Maria had been given a chance.

“Very well then.” Kersey motioned him out of the room, slopping brandy over his hand. “Get on with it.”

“No, my lord.”

“What?” The earl tried to focus on Hugh once more.

“I said no, my lord, I will not turn a good tenant out of their place when they still have three years to run on that tenancy and able bodies to work the fields.” God, but it felt good to say that to Kersey’s face.

“You are insolent, Granger. And on account of tenants who wouldn’t give a tinker’s damn if you starved or not.”

“I think they would care, my lord. But you obviously don’t care about them.” The rush of power at being able to speak his mind to a man who had been, in a few short weeks, a tyrant and a tormenter, was exhilarating. He imagined Maria had felt something like that when she confronted him last week. “And as I refuse to be your henchman for this particular execution, I hereby tender my resignation, effective immediately.”

“You cannot do that, Granger!” The earl’s face turned a bright red, his eyes almost starting from their sockets. “I have not dismissed you from my employ.”

“Lord Kersey, you no longer have the right to do so. I am not your employee as of one minute ago.” Hugh grinned at the man, who looked from one side of the room to the other, as if searching for someone to tell him how to make Hugh behave. “I take my leave of you, my lord.” Hugh bowed, turned, and hurried from the room, all the while anticipating the tumbler of brandy being hurled at the back of his head.