Chapter 6
“My lord, I fear this matter has escalated beyond my authority to resolve... I need… your help.”
Tobias looked up from the ledger he had been pretending to understand for the better part of an hour, grateful for any interruption that might spare him from Edward’s meticulous accounting. Pemberton stood in the doorway of the study, his weathered face creased with concern.
“What matter?” He set aside his pen almost eagerly, looking at the hesitance with which Pemberton approached him.
“The Millers and the Carters, my lord. The boundary dispute has reignited. Both families are quite agitated, and I confess I am… at a loss.”
Boundary dispute. Tobias frowned. Why… would a boundary dispute between two families affect him at all?
He nodded, though, pretending to understand, and rose from behind the desk, moving toward the estate map mounted on the wall.
He studied it with what he hoped appeared to be thoughtful consideration, though in truth the various property lines and tenant holdings blurred together into meaningless ink.
“The Millers and Carters,” he repeated, stalling for time. “Remind me of the particulars?”
Pemberton did not even attempt to hide his sigh, and Tobias looked down.
He’d been asking a lot of these types of questions, and he did not entirely blame the man—who had been used to Edward—for becoming rather exasperated.
Still, there was only deference in Pemberton’s voice when at last he spoke.
“Adjacent holdings along the eastern border, my lord. The families have disputed the precise boundary for generations. Your father attempted a resolution multiple times without lasting success. Your brother, however, managed to broker an arrangement that held for nearly three years. Until last week.”
Of course, Edward managed it. Of course, his perfect brother had possessed some magical ability to settle disputes that had confounded even their father.
“And what precisely caused this arrangement to collapse?”
“The younger Miller boy—Tom, my lord—erected a fence that the Carters claim encroaches upon their pasturage. Tom insists he built precisely where his father instructed, following the agreement Lord Redmond—that is, your brother—established. But Carter claims the boy has moved the boundary a full three feet onto Carter land.”
Tobias moved to the window, ostensibly to observe the mentioned eastern fields, though they lay well beyond his view. In truth, he simply needed a moment to master the rising panic that threatened to expose his utter incompetence about an issue that he saw as completely ridiculous.
He had absolutely no idea what to do.
“Perhaps we might—” he began, though he had no notion of what he intended to suggest.
A soft knock interrupted whatever inadequate solution he might have proposed. Both men turned toward the door.
“Forgive my intrusion, my lord.”
Amelia. She stood at the threshold, one hand resting on the doorframe as though uncertain of her welcome. The morning light from the corridor illuminated her profile, and Tobias found himself momentarily unable to form a coherent thought.
He had managed to avoid her for days, though it seemed that had now come to an end. He looked down, unable to hold her gaze, though he knew not whether it was only shame behind the gesture.
“Lady Amelia.” He managed to keep his voice neutral despite the way his heart had commenced an undignified racing. “What a… pleasant… surprise.”
“I could not help but overhear,” she said after a short silence. “I am… aware of the dispute. Lord Redmond…your brother… Edward… spoke of it.”
She hesitantly approached them, her gaze fixed on the estate map rather than on Tobias himself.
“Your brother resolved it,” she continued, her voice growing stronger, “by proposing a solution that required both families to compromise. The Millers wanted to expand their dairy pasture, whilst the Carters needed additional grazing for their sheep. Edward suggested they share use of the disputed strip—Millers in summer when their dairy cows required lush grass, Carters in autumn and winter for sheep grazing. Both families benefited, neither lost face, and the boundary itself remained unchanged.”
Tobias could only stare at her. She had mentioned this solution as though it were simple.
“That is...” He cleared his throat. “That is remarkably astute. How did Edward enforce such an arrangement?”
“He did not enforce it, my lord. He convinced them it served their own interests.” She finally looked at him directly, and the cool composure in her blue eyes made something in his chest constrict.
“John Miller is a proud man who will not be dictated to, whilst Samuel Carter values fairness above all else. I… believe your brother appealed to Carter’s sense of justice and Miller’s practical nature.
Once both men believed the solution their own idea, they defended it vigorously. ”
“My lady,” Pemberton interjected, his tone one of obvious respect, “that is precisely what I attempted. But young Tom Miller built his fence without consulting his father, and now John’s pride is wounded. He insists he will not be made to look the fool before his neighbors.”
Amelia’s brow furrowed in thought. “And Samuel Carter? How has he responded?”
“With equal stubbornness, I fear. Both men have engaged in considerable shouting, though mercifully no violence has occurred. Yet.”
“Will you...” Tobias turned toward Amelia, not daring to think about what he was about to propose. “Would you accompany me to speak with them? I should value your counsel in this matter.”
The request hung in the air between them. Amelia—as he had expected—hesitated. It was, he supposed, perhaps not proper to ask this. He hardly thought his brother would ever consider it.
“My lord, I do not think—”
“Please. I believe your… tact… might be of value.”
She looked at him for a long moment, and he forced himself to hold her gaze with an uncomfortable smile. Then, at last, she nodded.
“If it might prevent further discord, then yes. I shall accompany you.”
Relief flooded through him with such force that he nearly swayed. “Thank you. Pemberton, please inform the families that we shall call upon them this afternoon.”
The estate steward bowed and departed, leaving Tobias alone with Amelia for the first time in days. Tobias could not dare look her in the eye, so he found a spot just above her shoulder—fixing his eyes on it. A crack in the wall.
“I should prepare,” she murmured as she moved towards the door. “If we are to ride out, I must—”
“Amelia.” He spoke before thinking—once more. She turned back to him, and this time, he allowed himself to truly look at her. “I am grateful. Truly. For your assistance in this matter, yes, but more than that. For...”
For not looking at me as though I am a complete failure. For offering your knowledge freely rather than hoarding it as a weapon. For being here at all when you have every reason to maintain the distance I have imposed.
But he could not voice any of that, so instead he simply said: “Thank you.”
She nodded once, sharp and formal, and fled the room, while he sat down—burying himself in more paperwork until the time came to see the two families.
This time came far too quickly, though there was a stubborn part in the corner of his heart that thought it did not come soon enough.
As the afternoon grew to its hottest, he was on a horse, heading towards the feuding families.
Beside him, Amelia sat her horse with an easy grace that should not have surprised him.
She was, after all, graceful in everything.
They had ridden in silence for the first quarter of an hour, the only sounds being the steady clop of hooves and the occasional bird call from the hedgerows. The awkwardness between them kept growing, and though he wanted nothing more than to end it, Tobias feared that he had no idea how.
“I did not know you enjoyed riding,” he said when he was unable to bear the silence any longer.
“I learned as a girl,” she said simply. “My father kept a small stable. After I married, Edward thought it... unladylike for the viscountess to ride out unaccompanied, and he rarely had time to escort me himself.”
Tobias frowned at this. Another small cruelty, another restriction Edward had imposed upon her freedom. How many such limitations had she endured in the name of propriety?
“You are welcome to ride whenever you wish,” he said, then immediately winced at his own presumption. “That is, I do not mean to grant permission as though you require it. I merely meant—”
“I understand what you meant, my lord.”
Tobias nodded, though he felt his cheeks grow hot. They lapsed back into silence, and he glanced at her a few times before finally speaking.
“I ought to apologize,” he said abruptly. “For my behaviour these past days. For avoiding you. It was childish and—”
“You need not apologize for choosing to keep your distance.” Her interruption was swift, almost sharp. “I imagine that maintaining certain boundaries would be... prudent.”
He did not want to impose boundaries, and he had never valued being prudent in his life.
Before he could formulate a response, the Miller holding came into view.
A modest cottage stood among neatly tended fields, smoke rising from the chimney.
And there, running along the disputed boundary, stood the infamous fence—raw timber, recently erected, extending perhaps thirty feet before stopping abruptly.
“The fence does appear rather... aggressive,” Tobias observed.
“John Miller has three sons and considerable pride,” Amelia said. “I imagine young Tom thought to please his father by taking initiative. Instead, he has embroiled him in a dispute that threatens that very pride.”