CHAPTER FIVE
"You're holding the ledger upside down."
Harriet looked up from the accounts she had been pretending to study and found Sebastian watching her with an expression of barely concealed amusement.
He was seated across from her at the study's large oak desk, surrounded by towers of documents that Mr. Thornton had produced from various filing cabinets and storage rooms throughout the house.
"I am not," she said, then looked down at the page in her hands. The numbers were, indeed, inverted. "I was testing you."
"Of course you were." Sebastian's lips twitched. "And did I pass?"
"Barely." Harriet turned the ledger right-side up and tried to focus on the figures swimming before her eyes.
She had been at this for three hours now, and her mind kept wandering to places it had no business going.
Specifically, to the library. To midnight.
To Sebastian's voice in the candlelight, confessing fears she had never imagined him capable of feeling.
I sat there thinking, this girl is magnificent, and she will never, ever look twice at me.
She had looked twice at him this morning. And a third time. And possibly a fourth, though she was trying very hard not to keep count.
"Here." Sebastian rose and moved around the desk to her side, leaning over her shoulder to point at a column of figures. "This section shows the estate's income from tenant rents over the past decade. You'll notice a significant decline beginning three years ago."
Harriet was having difficulty noticing anything except the proximity of his body to hers.
He was close enough that she could smell him, that same sandalwood and cedar scent she remembered from the inn, imbued with something warm and distinctly masculine.
Close enough that if she turned her head, her lips would be mere inches from his jaw.
She did not turn her head. She stared fixedly at the numbers and tried to remember how to breathe.
"The decline coincides with Richard's death," she managed. "The tenants were probably taking advantage of the uncertainty."
"Some of them, yes. But look here," Sebastian's finger traced a line down the page, and Harriet found herself watching his hand rather than the figures.
He had elegant hands, she noticed. Long fingers, well-shaped nails, a light dusting of dark hair across the knuckles.
"…this particular tenant, a Mr. Briggs, has been consistently late with his payments since well before Richard's passing.
It may be worth investigating whether he's experiencing difficulties that could be resolved, or whether he's simply taking liberties. "
"Mr. Thornton never mentioned any issues with Mr. Briggs."
"Mr. Thornton is thorough but, as I said, unimaginative. He sees numbers. He doesn't always see the people behind them."
Harriet turned to look at Sebastian which was a mistake, as it brought their faces dangerously close together. His grey eyes met hers, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
"You're very good at this," she said finally. “Looking beyond the surface.”
"Years of practice. Estate management is as much about understanding people as it is about understanding finances." Sebastian straightened, putting a more appropriate distance between them, and Harriet told herself she was relieved. "Speaking of which, I've found something interesting."
"Interesting good, or interesting bad?"
"Interesting potentially very good." Sebastian moved to another stack of papers and withdrew a yellowed document that looked as though it had been languishing in storage for decades. "Do you know anything about mining rights on the Fordshire estate?"
"Mining rights? No, nothing. Why?"
"Because according to this agreement, signed by your great-grandfather in 1762, the Fordshire family retains mineral rights to a significant portion of land in the northern section of the property.
Land that, if I'm not mistaken, sits directly above a coal seam that was considered too difficult to access at the time. "
Harriet felt her heart quicken. "And now?"
"Now, with modern extraction techniques, it might be considerably more accessible. If the coal is still there…and there's no reason to think it wouldn't be those rights, could be worth a small fortune."
"Why wouldn't my father have known about this? Or Richard?"
"The agreement was buried in a box of miscellaneous documents from your great-grandfather's era.
It's entirely possible no one has looked at it in fifty years.
" Sebastian set the document on the desk before her.
"I'd like to have a surveyor examine the land, if you're willing.
It would cost something upfront, but if the coal is viable. .."
"It could save us."
"It could help significantly. I don't want to promise more than that as there are too many unknowns. But it's worth investigating."
Harriet stared at the yellowed paper, her mind racing. A coal seam. Mining rights. Money buried beneath their feet all along, waiting to be discovered. It seemed too good to be true.
"How did you find this?" she asked.
"I've been going through every document in this study since dawn.
Mr. Thornton organised everything by date, which is sensible but not always helpful.
I reorganised by category and started looking for anything related to land use, mineral rights, or long-term agreements.
" Sebastian shrugged, as though this Herculean effort were merely a minor inconvenience. "It took some time."
"Some time? Sebastian, you must have been at this for hours before I even woke up."
"I couldn't sleep." His voice was carefully neutral. "I thought I might as well make myself useful."
Harriet thought of him in the library, confessing his fears, saying I simply thought you deserved to know. She thought of the way he had looked at her when she said she didn't despise him. She thought of all the years she had spent believing him to be her enemy, and how wrong she had been.
"Thank you," she said. “I am at a loss for further expression. I can only offer you my deepest heartfelt gratitude.”
"You can thank me if the survey shows something promising. Until then, I've simply found a very old piece of paper."
"A very old piece of paper that could change everything."
"Perhaps." Sebastian's expression was guarded, but something warm flickered in his eyes. “Do not set your heart too firmly upon it, I beg of you. I've learned that expectations are best kept modest."
Before Harriet could respond, a knock at the door announced the arrival of Mrs. Briggs, bearing a silver tray with the morning's correspondence.
"The post, my lady. And there's a letter for you specifically…arrived by express."
Harriet took the proffered envelope, noting the unfamiliar seal. She broke it open and scanned the contents, her pulse quickening with each line.
"It's from Lord Davies," she said. "He'll see me."
Sebastian went very still. "When?"
"As soon as I can arrange to travel. He says…" Harriet frowned at the letter. "He says he is 'intrigued' by my proposal and would welcome the opportunity to discuss the matter in person. He asks that I attend him at Davies Hall at my earliest convenience."
"That's rather fast."
"Is it? I thought prompt responses were considered good form."
"They are. It's just..." Sebastian trailed off, his expression troubled. "Davies has a reputation."
"What sort of reputation?"
"The sort that involves young ladies and compromising situations."
Harriet felt a flash of irritation. "I am perfectly capable of handling myself around men with reputations, Sebastian. I have survived five London seasons without incident."
"I don't doubt your capability. I'm merely suggesting that Davies may have ulterior motives for wanting to meet with you privately."
"He's a creditor. I've asked to negotiate. It would be strange if he didn't want to discuss the matter in person."
"Harriet…"
"I'm going." Harriet folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket. "This is the best chance we have. Lord Davies holds the largest non-forgiven debt against the estate. If I can persuade him to accept some kind of arrangement, it changes everything."
"Then I'm coming with you."
"What?"
"I'm coming with you," Sebastian repeated. "As a chaperone, if nothing else. Your mother will never allow you to travel to a bachelor's home alone, and you are very well aware of it.”
Harriet opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. He was right, even though she was vexed by the knowledge. Lady Fordshire would have an apoplexy at the mere suggestion of her unattached daughter visiting Lord Davies's estate unaccompanied.
"Fine," she said. "But I do the talking. This is my family's debt, and I'll negotiate it on my own terms."
"Agreed." Sebastian's expression was unreadable. "I'll arrange for the carriage. We can leave first thing tomorrow morning."
***
Lady Fordshire's reaction to the plan was precisely what Harriet had expected.
"Absolutely not." Her mother's voice carried the particular ring of aristocratic horror that had been perfected over generations of Englishwomen faced with impropriety. "You cannot travel to Lord Davies's estate. The man is a notorious libertine. I can only imagine what tactics he will employ.”
"Lord Vane will accompany me," Harriet said. "As my chaperone."
"Lord Vane is an unmarried man. If anything, his presence makes the situation more scandalous, not less."
"Then what would you suggest? We send Mr. Thornton? I hardly think a solicitor carries the same social weight."
Lady Fordshire's eyes narrowed. "You might bring a maid. Several maids. And stay at an inn rather than at Davies Hall itself."
"Lord Davies specifically invited me to stay at the hall. Refusing his hospitality would be an insult that might doom the negotiations before they begin."
"Then let Lord Vane conduct the negotiations on your behalf. He has more experience with such matters."