Chapter Seven
Sterling had reviewed the reports and the accounting. All seemed to be in order, but he also had a list of questions. They were the same matters that he had wondered about in England before he had left and would now be able to discuss directly with Mr. Hallaway.
He was also more invigorated and not at all tired, despite the hour that he woke, and it was because he had gotten some work done.
Idleness did not suit him and had set him on edge whenever he was sailing because there was little for him to do.
Even though he had only been settled behind a desk, his mind had been engaged.
He was also hungry again. The bread had only satisfied the emptiness of his stomach for so long and Sterling made his way to the dining room where he found his mother already seated.
“I missed you at supper,” she said as he entered. “I thought perhaps it was because you still hated me and would rather starve than share a table.”
Now she was being dramatic. “I do not hate you.”
In fact, much of his opinion had been altered after the revelations of yesterday, and early this morning. Yet, a part of him still resented that she hadn’t returned to her sons on her own. That would take the longest to reconcile, if he ever could.
“But George advised that when a footman called you to supper and finally entered your chamber when there was no answer, he found you sound asleep. I insisted that they not disturb you because I know how exhausting travel can be.”
How could she know such? She hadn’t left the Cape Colony in ten years. Unless she traveled to other places, just not home—where her husband and sons waited.
Sterling pushed his anger aside as he filled a plate from the selection of dishes which included eggs, cold meats, bread, and fruit on the table.
“My brothers never told me that they corresponded with you.” Not that it should be a surprise.
After his father had returned without her, and when she never came home, he had insisted that her name never be mentioned.
Sterling and his brothers even stopped mentioning her when their father was not around.
His father only mumbled her name when he was deep in his cups and would stare at her portrait.
“Jules wrote when he was on the Continent. Even though he was with his closest friend, he missed home and wanted to be back at Wyndview Hall. He was also at war, which I am certain had much to do with his longing for England.”
Battles that had affected his brother deeply.
There had been a profound change in Jules between the time he left for the Continent and returned without his closest friend.
Sterling had tried to question him, but Jules refused to talk about the war and took himself off to the cottage where he spent much of his time sculpting.
“Elliot visited me, before he took up residence in Madeira.”
Sterling startled in surprise. He had been under the impression that none of his brothers had seen their mother. Then again, he had not seen Elliot since he left England some five years ago, but he could have mentioned the meeting in a letter.
“We visited for a fortnight and spent hours talking about the time when we all lived here and how it had changed. He also wondered if he might miss England after he lived in Madeira for a while, knowing he had little choice of where he could make his home because of what was expected of him.”
Elliot had moved to Madeira to learn from their Uncle David and then take over their vineyard. It was his destiny—a dictate by their father. Each son was to do their part for Trade Wynd so that it didn’t fall to one person, as it had to Sterling’s father.
“As for Avery, he plans to visit, and eventually move here, but wants to further his studies in botany before he does so.”
“He knows that Jules will never leave Southampton, and since the responsibility had been assigned to him, Avery plans to take his place,” Sterling clarified.
His mother frowned. “Avery never fully explained, but I assume that it is because of Jules’s art and that his sculpting is too important. Given Avery’s interest in botany, he is probably better suited to manage this estate.”
Sterling wasn’t going to tell her the reason why Jules would likely never come to the Wyndview Farm. If Jules had not confided in her, not that he confided in anyone, Sterling was not going to be the one to talk out of turn, even if it was to their mother.
“If Father were still alive, I am certain that he would have forced Jules here and forbidden him from becoming a footguard. I, for one, am glad that he is pursuing his passion for sculpting. Everyone should be allowed to follow a course they prefer and not one forced upon them by an overbearing parent.”
Sterling did not voice whether he agreed with her or not because he had done what was expected.
He had no choice because he had been the heir.
He had a duty. Had he been a younger brother, perhaps he would have explored other options and opportunities not dictated by their father.
But, as his situation would not change, there was no reason to wonder what he might have done if circumstances had been different.
*
After gaining a promise from her father that he would read the reports and once again become familiar with the accounts and all other aspects of the estate, Caroline left him to see that her daughter was at her lessons with Beatrix and then made her way to the main house in search of Lady Wyndham.
She should have finished breaking her fast and would likely be in the lavender sitting room where she preferred to spend her time.
Except, Lady Wyndham was not there.
It truly wasn’t necessary that Caroline inform Lady Wyndham of the change in duties or the schedule, it was only out of respect.
With that thought, Caroline stepped back out into the corridor, prepared to leave when she turned right into Lord Wyndham—her breasts pressing against his chest and his hands on her upper arms to steady her produced a sizzle of awareness that swept through her being.
Goodness!
She quickly stepped away. “I beg your pardon. I should have…” The words died on her lips as she looked up at his face, tight and unforgiving, his blue eyes darkening.
So much for trying to stay out of his way and go unnoticed.
“Might I have a moment of your time?”
“Yes, of course,” she answered dutifully.
“Come with me.”
Caroline took a deep breath and followed him to the office.
The report and accounting that she had left on his desk early this morning was in place, but disturbed and there was another parchment with handwriting. Did he have questions for her father? Could she hope that he asked her instead?
“How may I be of assistance?”
“It is a curiosity,” he answered. “Your copied report is here, but not the pages written by your father. Not even in the waste receptacle.”
Because they did not exist.
“Where might they be?”
Oh, she hated to lie, but it was a necessity. “I took them back to Father. He likes them destroyed after they are copied.”
“Does he not keep a copy for himself?”
“Yes,” Caroline answered. “I make two copies, which you saw me do last evening. One to remain with my father’s records and one to send to you.”
“I would like copies of the reports from the past year. As I was traveling, they did not reach me.”
“Yes, of course,” she answered. Those had been read, at least by William, and could easily be returned.
Wyndham nodded, accepting her answer.
He then looked at her and frowned. No doubt because of the stains on this dress. He was also probably too much of a gentleman to ask.
“I apologize for my appearance. I only came to see your mother to tell her that I would be working in the gardens today.”
Wyndham frowned further. “Why? You are not an employee of Wyndview Farm.”
“As a favor to your mother,” Caroline answered. “She does adore the gardens but the weeds do need to be tended to.” When Caroline had arrived, it was Lady Wyndham who spent her time in the gardens, but it had become too painful for her knees and back so Caroline had taken over the duties.
“Do I not employ a gardener?” he demanded.
If he had read the reports, and accounting, then he would know already that no wages were paid to one. “There is no one who can see to the task so I took it upon myself.”
“There is no one else?” It was partially a demand as if he did not approve.
There would probably be much that he would find fault with, which was why they all needed to be very careful in what they said and did.
“Ah, Lord Wyndham,” her father greeted boisterously as he entered the office, William following.
Caroline prayed that this meeting went well.
“I have not seen you since I left England.” Her father stopped before Wyndham and bowed. Her brother did the same.
“My son, William,” her father introduced.
“Father has been teaching him since he returned from England so that he might be an estate manager one day,” Caroline offered so that Wyndham did not question William’s presence. It was imperative that her brother be allowed to remain for the meeting.
“Please have a seat.” Wyndham indicated to the two chairs before his desk. “I have reviewed the report and accounting and have a few questions.”
Caroline was certain that her heart was caught in her throat. So long as the questions were about grapes and wine, she had no concern, but if Wyndham asked about any other aspect of the estate, they could be doomed.
“I am certain that you would rather have tea, or brandy, or perhaps a glass of Wynd Wine, before we begin,” Mr. Hallaway suggested.
“After being on a ship for so long, you must want to rest. We can always discuss the estate tomorrow,” William offered. “You only arrived yesterday.”
“I am well and rested, thank you,” Wyndham answered curtly. “Nor do I believe brandy or wine is appropriate for this hour. If you require tea, I will have it served.”
Caroline winced as she backed toward the door.
Her father had attempted charm and failed.
Wyndham looked in her direction and arched a brow.
He clearly wanted her to be gone. “If you will excuse me,” Caroline offered then ducked out of the room. However, she left the door ajar and found a position where she could hear what was being said without being seen or her shadow being cast into the room.
“I am certain you are eager to learn about the grapes, harvest, and wine making,” her father began. “We have an excellent crop this year…”
“Tobacco.”
Caroline nearly groaned. Why couldn’t Wyndham ask about the wine?
“Tobacco?” her father asked as if he had never heard the term before.
“You started growing tobacco two years ago, but you no longer do as of this year. May I ask why?”
“Mr. Avery,” William sounded rushed in his answer, likely to keep their father from blurting out anything that may cause Wyndham to become alarmed.
“My brother gave you the instruction?” Wyndham’s tone was one more of confusion than curiosity.
“Yes,” her father answered.
“I will ask him for his reasons when I return home, unless they are already contained in the reports that I have yet to read,” he responded. “You now recommend that we grow more wheat, barley, oats, or rye and increase the household garden of vegetables and herbs.”
“What?” her father asked. “That is not…”
“Did Mrs. Sutcliffe misinterpret what you suggested?”
“Yes…I will speak with her. Wheat and barley!” He grunted and then harrumphed.
Maybe if Wyndham just let her father talk about his precious grapes, he would be happy and William could answer the rest of the questions.
“How is it going?”
Caroline nearly jumped when Lady Wyndham whispered in her ear.
“Not well, I am afraid,” Caroline answered quietly.
Lady Wyndham looked her over from head to toe. “Why are you wearing that dress?”
“I was going to tend to your gardens today.”
“You will do no such thing,” she insisted. “Change into an appropriate dress and I expect you to take tea with me this afternoon.”
It was not an unusual request because she often took tea with Lady Wyndham. “Do you think it is wise with your son here?”
“The only crop that matters are those that include grapes,” her father insisted in a raised voice.
“Oh dear!” Lady Wyndham exclaimed. “I believe it is time that I interfere.”
As she never answered Caroline’s question pertaining to tea, she supposed that she must make an appearance and hope that Wyndham had other plans.