Chapter 22
GEORGE
Theo gaped at him.
“Misled?” he repeated, shocked by George’s accusation. “When did I mislead anyone?”
“You told Mrs. Morgan they were in no danger of being evicted. How can you possibly say that when you're actively planning to sell Blackfriars?”
“Because it’s true!” Theo exclaimed. “Mrs. Morgan was worried about me selling to Prentice, and she needn’t be.
I’ve had no discussions with him, or even met him.
I hope to sell Blackfriars, yes, but the Morgans seem like good tenants, and I’m sure any sensible buyer will want to keep them in place. ”
George made a sound of disbelief. “But you didn’t say any of that, Theo. You gave them the impression that you have no intention of selling Blackfriars at all. And that’s not true.”
Theo opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, frowning.
“You’ve given them false hope that nothing is going to change,” George shook his head. “That poor woman was so relieved. When she finds out you’re selling after all, she’s going to be devastated.”
“Hang on a minute,” Theo said, coming to a halt and taking hold of George’s arm to stop him striding onwards.
“Don’t you think you’re being rather pessimistic?
Why would you leap to the conclusion that any buyer will evict them?
The Morgans pay their rent on time, and they seem to keep the place in order. ”
“Why would you leap to the conclusion that any buyer would keep them?” George shot back.
“The truth is, you have no idea what any new owner will want to do, Theo. They might want to farm the land themselves, or give leases to other people. Once the land belongs to someone else, it will be theirs, to do with as they wish.”
“Fine then,” Theo said, his face taking on a mulish expression George remembered from when they were boys. “I’ll make it a condition of sale that the Morgans stay on as tenants.”
“In which case, you’ll have to find a buyer willing to accept such a condition.
Generally, when people buy land, they expect to get the right to do what they wish with it,” George said.
“And anyway, how would you enforce such a promise? Let’s say that, three years from now, the new owner evicts the Morgans, notwithstanding the terms of your agreement.
How will you even hear about such an event?
By the sound of things, you might be in the Alps by then!
And what would you do if you did find out?
Come back here and—do what? Serve proceedings on the owner yourself?
What would you ask the court to do about your broken agreement?
Whatever it was, it would do the Morgans no good.
They would already have lost their home by then. ”
Theo’s jaw was clenched now, a muscle working in his cheek. “A gentlemen keeps his promises. I am confident that any such agreement would be honoured.”
“Well, that’s certainly convenient,” George said angrily. “Do you mean to tell me you don’t know of a single gentleman who has ever broken a promise? Theo, do not be na?ve!”
“I’m not na?ve,” Theo protested. “I would make enquiries. Satisfy myself as to the character of any buyer I contract with.”
George forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. Theo was perfectly entitled to sell his own land if he wanted to.
“All I’m saying is that you do not know—could never know—what might happen once you sell this land.
Your buyer might sell to someone else a year later, or die and leave the property to his heirs.
Your condition would not bind any such new owners.
” He paused. “My point, Theo, is that, if you are selling this land, you cannot control what is done with it later, and in the meantime, you have given the Morgans the wrong impression.”
Theo pressed his lips together and turned his gaze to the horizon. After a moment’s silence he said, “You don’t think I should sell Blackfriars, do you?”
“I didn’t say that,” George protested. “I’m merely saying you oughtn’t to give your tenants false hopes. That way, at least they have time to make alternate plans, in case they are evicted on short notice.”
Theo nodded unhappily. And suddenly, George felt like the worst sort of heel. It wasn’t Theo's fault that he’d inherited this estate, or that he had no money to pay for improvements.
Or that he was considerably more optimistic than George.
“Come on,” George said, “Let’s meet this Mr. Martin.”
* * *
Martin’s farm was spare and tidy.
The sheep grazing in the fields—Leicester Longwools by the look of them—appeared well-tended, as did the gates and drystone walls.
The farmhouse, too, when they reached it, looked to be well maintained, though not as cheerful as the Morgans’ place.
No sweet peas on the windowsill here, at least not that George could see.
A knock at the front door stirred no response, so they skirted around the side of the house, entering a neatly-kept farmyard, where a man who must be Martin was sitting cleaning dried mud from a sturdy fork.
He was a spare, lean man of around sixty years, with the wiry strength of someone who had worked hard all his days.
His grizzled face was weather-beaten—sun-bronzed and wind-chafed—and his pale eyes glinted blue under thick brows, oddly bright against his walnut complexion.
His iron-grey hair was thick too, and tangled by the breeze, an old lion’s mane.
As they approached him, he glanced up from his labours.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Martin,” Theo said heartily. “I’m not sure if you remember me, I’m—”
“Mr. Caldwell.” Martin interrupted. “I remember you.” His accent sounded quite different from the Morgans and Mrs. Ford.
Martin stood slowly, taking his time—not exactly disrespectful, but not particularly respectful either. He did not smile.
George glanced at Theo to see how he was taking this cool reception. His own smile was fading.
Stepping forward, George held out his hand. “George Asquith,” he said, introducing himself. “You have a well-kept farm, Mr. Martin. It’s a credit to you.”
Martin reached out his own hand, giving George’s a perfunctory shake. “And what’s your interest, Mr. Asquith? Are you thinking of buying Blackfriars from Mr. Caldwell? Is that why you're here?”
George’s eyes widened in surprise. “No,” he said. "Not at all.”
“Mr. Asquith is a friend of mine,” Theo put in. “You might not feel like being civil to me, but perhaps you could at least be civil to him.”
Martin raised his brows, then shrugged. “Didn’t mean to be uncivil. When you’re an old bachelor like me, you get so you forget how to behave in polite company.” Glancing at George, he added, “My apologies, Mr. Asquith. I’m a plain-spoken fellow, and sometimes I forget my manners.”
George nodded. “Sometimes we all do,” he said mildly.
After a beat of awkward silence, Martin said, “So, what can I do for you today, Mr. Caldwell? You must have come here for a reason?”
“No particular reason,” Theo replied. “I only arrived yesterday evening so naturally my first order of business is to call on my tenants.”
“Oh, naturally,” Martin replied, his tone noticeably dry.
“Well, as it happens, I’m doing fine, thank you.
But you’ll notice that other parts of the estate are not faring quite so well.
The roof of the main house is in danger of falling in, and the labourers’ cottages need attention.
Not to mention all the holes in the roads which I mentioned to you last time. ”
George didn’t need to look at Theo to know how mortified he would be by this blatant criticism. Tactfully, he kept his gaze averted.
Theo cleared his throat. “I’m aware of some of these problems,” he said. “And I plan to take a full inventory of what’s required during this visit, with Mr. Asquith’s help.”
“I’m pleased to hear it,” Martin replied in the same dry tone. “Blackfriars has been rather neglected recently.”
Theo stiffened. “Yes, well, in fairness, it had been neglected since before it came into my possession.”
Martin’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re suggesting your uncle neglected Blackfriars,” he said tightly, “then you’re quite wrong. He loved this place and worked all the hours God sent when he was too ill even to be out of bed.”
George blinked at the man’s unexpected vehemence, then glanced at Theo who looked as taken aback as George was.
“I did not intend to impugn my uncle,” Theo retorted.
“I was only pointing out that some of the difficulties you mentioned began after he passed away and before I returned to England and learned he had left me this place.
Incidentally, I had no idea he intended to do so, or I'd have put some arrangements in place before I left.”
Just then, a terrible yowl rent the air, making George and Theo startle.
This was followed by some furious spitting and barking.
Martin reacted to this by letting out a sharp, loud whistle, and a moment later, a black-and-white collie streaked across the farmyard, going straight to Martin's heel and sitting down on its haunches to peer eagerly up at him. The collie’s muzzle had been scratched—presumably by whatever had been yowling and spitting—and was bleeding a little.
“You scrapping with that old tomcat again, Fen?” Martin said, shaking his head at the dog. “You should leave him alone. He always bests you.”
The dog whined and pushed its head under Martin’s rough hand, and the man petted him absently.
George glanced at Theo, but Theo’s own attention was on the dog.
He had always liked dogs, George remembered.
He was always making a fuss of the ones at Dinsford Park, even the fat, bad-tempered little lapdog Ollie’s mother kept in the house.
Theo dropped to his haunches, clicking his tongue, and when Martin lifted his hand from the collie’s head in permission, the dog went to Theo eagerly, squirming with pleasure as Theo ruffled his head and ears.
“Farmyard cats are tough as old boots,” Theo chided in an indulgent tone.
“You shouldn’t have taken a beast like that on, you silly mutt.
” The dog gazed up at Theo adoringly, and George rather knew how it felt.
It was very nice to have those strong, capable hands stroking you.
Martin’s stony expression eased a little in the face of this display. Evidently, the dog was his weakness. “Fen definitely shouldn’t have taken on this tom. He’s the size of a bloody hogget and as vicious as they come. Though he does keep the rats down.”
After fussing over the collie for a few more minutes, Theo rose back to his feet. The ordinary little incident seemed to have eased the tension between Theo and Martin, so George decided to set off on a new, and hopefully more productive, conversational path.
“As Mr. Caldwell said, we’re undertaking an inventory of the current state of repair of Blackfriars,” he said. “We’d be very glad of any information you have that might assist us. I gather you’ve been here many years, so I daresay you know the estate better than anyone.”
“I know this place inside out, Mr. Asquith,” Martin said. “If you’re willing to walk, I’d be more than happy to take you around the whole estate and show you all the parts that need attention.”
“I would like to come too,” Theo said. After an awkward pause, he added, “If that’s all right.”
Martin seemed surprised by his request, his eyebrows rising, but all he said was, “Very well, Mr. Caldwell.”
“When would suit?” Theo asked. “Mr. Asquith and I have no other commitments so we’re available at your convenience.”
“Tomorrow?” Martin suggested. “Around noon? I’ll have my morning chores done by then.”
Theo nodded. “Noon will be fine."