Chapter Eight
Sterling looked between the two men. Why were they anxious and why did Hallaway only want to talk about grapes? Was there another reason William had wanted to put this meeting off for another day, besides his assumption that Sterling needed rest?
It was all very strange, especially when Hallaway seemed surprised that they had grown tobacco. As the estate manager, should he not have already been aware?
“No business today,” his mother announced as she entered the office.
Hallaway and William came to their feet instantly, but Sterling did not stand for his mother.
“There is no harm in waiting to discuss the crops, the estate, vineyard, and wine for another day. After all, you became the owner nearly seven years ago and you are just now getting around to visiting.”
“I am here for the purpose to ask specific questions about the estate before I tour it,” Sterling insisted.
“Then you should have considered the time of year for your visit. Your appearance brings disruption to my household regardless of your title.”
Sterling pulled back at her rebuke. He had not heard that tone since he was much younger, recently returned from completing his first term at Eton and filled with self-importance. She had quickly put him in his place as she had done just now.
“William and Mr. Hallaway should be preparing for the harvest.”
It was rather humiliating for her to censure him in front of the estate manager and son, so Sterling simply shook his head and chuckled.
“Yes, Mother.” He hoped that, by his dry tone, Hallaway would realize that Sterling was only humoring her when he intended to remind his mother that he was the owner of Wyndview Farm and that he would make decisions on when he took meetings. Except he would do so in private.
“Mr. Hallaway, William, you are free to return to your duties,” his mother instructed.
While William hesitated, not certain what to do, Hallaway marched out of the office without a word or acknowledgment.
There was something odd about his estate manager, but he also increased the profits of Wyndview Farm yearly, so perhaps Sterling could overlook his eccentricity.
“You may go,” Sterling finally said to William, who hurried after his father.
Why were they so reluctant to meet with him?
It wasn’t as if Sterling had any complaints as to how the estate was being managed.
He simply had questions that he hoped would offer more clarification as to why decisions had been made, such as he now knew that the decision to plant tobacco had been at the suggestion of his younger brother.
“What other advice has Avery given for the estate?” Sterling asked his mother.
“Oh, I would not know dear,” his mother answered innocently.
Sterling narrowed his eyes. Yes, she did. She just didn’t want to tell him, but why?
“Does that mean that he writes directly to Hallaway and you are told nothing?”
“Suggestions get mentioned occasionally but as I am not the one who makes the decisions for the estate and I simply live here, I am rarely consulted.”
Sterling practically snorted. His mother was knowledgeable about everything that happened at Wyndview Farm and likely managed those around her. Or, she had when his entire family had lived here.
“When do you plan on leaving?” she asked abruptly.
He tried to ignore the sudden stab of pain at her words. He had only just begun to consider what she had told him about Father’s part in their separation, but maybe it had been a lie and she really did not want to be around her children. “Do you want me gone soon, Mother?”
Her eyes widened. “No. Of course not,” she insisted. “In fact, I hope that you remain through March.”
It was only the end of January, but at least she wasn’t sending him away immediately, not that she had the power to do so. “Why is that?”
“So that you can be present for the grape harvest and making of the wine. Only then will Mr. Hallaway have the time to properly meet with you.”
“A month?” Sterling nearly yelled. More than a month.
“Yes, at least,” she answered calmly.
Sterling gaped at her. One would think they were discussing an afternoon tea, not an extended delay in his travels before he sailed to Maderia.
“Certainly, you recall from your childhood that you rarely saw your father during the months of January, February, and March.”
Sterling tried to remember, but the months flowed together…
except, that last year when they were here.
He had begged his father to let him help and had been taken along to watch the workers cut the bunches of grapes from the vines and start to destem them before he had been sent back to the house.
That had been not long after Twelfth Night and they rarely saw his father until early April, just as his mother said.
His father had promised that the following year Sterling would be old enough to take part, but they were forced to sail for London before the next harvest arrived.
Hallaway now had the same duties as his father and very likely had little time for an audience with Sterling.
“Very well, Mother. I will wait until a more convenient time to meet with Mr. Hallaway, but I am not promising a month. I have been away from England too long already.”
This also meant that he would likely not be able to return to England before the Season came to an end thus making it impossible for him to settle on a bride.
One of the reasons he had intended for this visit to be short was because he needed to get back home.
He had a duty to wed and produce an heir and a spare, which he should have put his attention to before now, but he’d also wanted to see the world, or the part of it that made his family wealthy, so his plan had been to travel, then settle on a bride.
That would likely now be put off for yet another year.
He could insist that Hallaway meet with him in the evenings, after the sun had gone down because it was unlikely he would be working in the fields then. Except, the man might be too exhausted. His father had been, with little time for his sons or wife.
Yes, Sterling was beginning to recall the harvest months when he and his brothers had sat on the hill and looked down at the servants cutting the grapes and how he couldn’t wait to fully participate.
Blast!
He really hadn’t wanted to remain in the Cape beyond a fortnight. What could he possibly do to occupy his time between now and then, if he could not meet with his estate manager, other than walk the farm, which would only take a day, at the most?
*
Caroline had followed her father and brother from the house and to their own.
“Did you read anything I had written?” she demanded.
“Yes,” her father answered.
“Did you remember any of it?”
“I remembered what was necessary,” her father answered. “Lord Wyndham will be satisfied after he sees the grapes and observes the harvest and will then leave. That is all that matters. Now, I must change and return to the vineyard.”
He marched up the stairs and Caroline glanced at her brother helplessly.
“He could be sacked for not taking his position seriously. Then where would we be?”
“I will see that he is better prepared and remind him that if he fails in his meetings that he might never work in the vineyard again or be near his precious grapes.”
“Thank you.”
Her brother left and climbed the stairs as Caroline wandered into the parlor she used as a sleeping chamber and sank down on the bed.
William’s suggestion may be the only thing that brought her father into line—his grapes. If he was removed from them…Caroline did not even want to think what he would be reduced to.
The problem was, would they be able to convince their father that there was an entire estate that he may have forgotten.
She fell back on her bed. They may not even start to harvest the grapes for a few more weeks and then it would be another week, though more likely a fortnight, before they were all cut, destemmed, stomped, and the juice poured into barrels.
She closed her eyes and groaned. It was far too long to have the Earl of Wyndham underfoot disrupting their life and duties and asking questions.
“Something must be done about my son!” Lady Wyndham announced when Caroline arrived to join her for tea.
Caroline glanced around to make certain there was no one else in the room, nor outside the window that may have heard Lady Wyndham.
“Do you fear he will discover the truth about my father?” she asked quietly as she settled across from her.
Lady Wyndham waved a hand in dismissal, the jewels on her fingers sparkling in the sunlight that came through the windows.
“If he has complaints, he can take them up with me and I will remind him that this estate is doing very well. If he were truly concerned, he would have voiced that immediately and would not have allowed me to delay the meeting.”
“Then what worries you?”
“He is just like his father, which is my fault, I suppose, since I was not there…except, by the time I left England he was eight and ten and his father was already had the greatest influence on his life.”
Caroline said nothing as it certainly was not her place to criticize any of them.
“Sterling needs to learn what is important, what his father forgot, and I am going to see to it that he does or he will never be happy.”
As she had no idea what Lady Wyndham meant, Caroline simply nodded.
“And you are going to help me.”
Caroline blinked and pulled back in surprise. “Me?”
“Yes. I have not fully formulated a plan, but when I do, it may require your assistance, especially if we want him away from the estate.”
She paused when a footman entered with an elaborate tea service of purple and gold that Lady Wyndham enjoyed. Caroline’s stomach grumbled at the sight of the finger sandwiches and delicacies. She had barely eaten this morning and was now starving.
“But I cannot be away,” Caroline reminded her once the servant was gone.
Lady Wyndham leaned forward to pour the tea. “You must. Otherwise, Sterling might discover what you have been about,” she said as she handed Caroline her tea.
Caroline bit her bottom lip. As William was here, he could see to those duties that her father no longer found time for.
“Very well, but only because you asked.” She would do nearly anything for Lady Wyndham but secretly hoped that whatever distractions she planned for her son would not take too long or take them too far from the estate.
“Ah, Mother,” Lord Wyndham announced at his arrival. “I had not anticipated that we would have a guest at tea.”
Caroline’s appetite quickly diminished and she set her tea aside. “I should go.”
“Nonsense! I invited you and you will stay,” Lady Wyndham ordered.
“Yes, please stay, Mrs. Sutcliffe,” Wyndham insisted as he took a seat between Caroline and his mother.
Though his invitation should be comforting, it only made her stomach tighten, which was probably from the guilt of keeping secrets.
“Do you often join my mother in the afternoon?” he asked after Lady Wyndham gave him a cup of tea.
“On occasion, when she extends an invitation,” Caroline answered quietly. In reality, they had become nearly friends and confidants despite their separation in stations and ages.
“Caroline is a companion,” Lady Wyndham announced. “And Livia brings me joy. I like having a child about. Do you have an objection, Sterling?”