Chapter 14
“I appreciate you staying behind from the strawberry patches to assist me, Will.” Simon sent his brother a smile as they rode
across the field, the afternoon sun warming them against the slight chill of the wind.
“I’m happy to . . . be of help to you, Simon.” Will gave a small nod, his dark hair tossed beneath his hat as they kept a
leisurely pace, allowing room for conversation.
“You’re a great help. Not only is this your home, but I could do with another opinion or two on the matter of tenants.”
Simon had spent only a few summers with his cousin, as encouraged by Father under some excuse of building family connection.
Not enough to give Simon thorough knowledge of how the estate ran, but enough to bring some awareness of the breadth of the
job. Perhaps it was during those visits that Father and Rupert began discussions of shared business ventures.
Father had never discussed such ventures with Simon. And no wonder, from what Simon had unearthed after their passing about
the nature of some of their schemes. Smuggling? Exploitation? Even illegal slave trading?
The weight of those wrongs painted Ravenscross’s reputation an even darker hue than the two men’s reputations alone. Their
ventures nearly led to the estate’s ruination outright.
And Cousin Rupert clearly hadn’t been focusing on Ravenscross, his tenants, or its future. So Simon’s “inheritance” had been much more of a shackle than a gift.
“You probably wish Teddy were here.” Will’s quiet voice carried over the space between them. “He knows more about these things.”
Teddy had spent far less time with Rupert than Simon, even.
“Perhaps, but he is fighting the French far away, and besides, you have the mind and ability to render welcome service. Should
I ever need you to manage anything, you’ll know exactly what it’s about.”
Will sat a little taller, his hesitant smile becoming fuller.
“Do you usually visit the tenants? To collect their rent?”
Ah, he was already embracing the responsibility. “Do you recall Mr. Starnes?”
Will furrowed his brow, considering, before nodding. “The man with the silver hair and white horses?”
“Yes, though he isn’t very old. An illness turned his hair white before his time. At any rate, he is the steward who manages
the finances of Ravenscross, as it’s not typically something gentlemen do. Though I’ve done more than my share of it recently.”
He paused, his tone growing quieter. “His father was steward before him, so he knows our estate and tenants well.”
Will’s nod encouraged Simon to continue—the additional time with the boy was somehow taking away a little of the melancholy
of the last few months. Perhaps, despite the need to marry for money, his family would be all right. Perhaps he could yet
make amends for the children’s losses and turn their family around.
“Tenants are a primary source of income for an estate, which is why we’ve been suffering from more expenditures than gains
since our cousin’s passing,” Simon continued. “I had no idea of the extent of our cousin’s mismanagement, and I am only glad
that we’ve been able to keep the few tenants we have.”
“Why did Cousin Rupert send the tenants away if having them helps provide funds for the estate?”
“Smart boy.” Simon’s compliment incited a glint in Will’s eyes.
“I don’t know that he sent them away as much as they left for better places.
Near the end of his life, he made impossible demands upon the tenants, which drove them to seek better accommodations elsewhere.
Only a few of the more desperate or faithful remained.
” He paused, glancing at Will. “And today we’ll be visiting some of them to inform them of new neighbors, who will be arriving soon, as well as assessing two vacant cottages to see if they’re ready for immediate occupancy. ”
“Are we visiting all of the tenants?” Will’s eyes widened.
Simon stifled a grin. The poor lad probably thought they’d spend the next three days on horseback appraising properties and
meeting strangers—a task neither of them relished. “Not all, but a visit has been long overdue. We’re taking some fresh bread
from Mrs. Patterson and some jam Miss Lockhart kindly provided to three of our most veteran tenants before we meet with Mr.
Starnes to see if the vacant cottages need any repairs.”
“How many new tenants do you expect?” Will asked, his curiosity keen.
Ah, yes. This purpose and camaraderie had been what Will had needed all along. “I wish for more, but for now, we have four
of the ten families provided by Mr. Bridges, all of whom are seeking immediate residence. I’ve also written to a few former
tenants, hoping they might be willing to return to their places now that I am Viscount of Ravenscross. They’ve likely established
themselves elsewhere, but it never hurts to try.”
Silence fell as Will appeared to consider this. Over the last few days, the boy seemed to have aged years, but not in a burdensome
way. More in the direction of maturity and—dare Simon think it—confidence? Yes, perhaps a little.
Simon would continue the dialogue if it meant bringing the boy out of his shadowy reclusion and into the light and breath of the real world.
He’d been so busy with his bachelor life first and then the estate business, he’d failed to share affection with these younger siblings.
The age difference likely helped with the distance.
But he was their surrogate father now, and he would not repeat the same absence or disgrace of that man. No, if he had anything
to do with it, their futures would be different. The very thought of Mr. John Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility—that self-important man, indifferent to the true concerns of his half sisters—nearly had Simon groaning for two reasons.
One, Dashwood was an atrocious figure, and Simon would never accept any comparison to him. Two, why, of all things, had that
novel come to mind just then?
“Did Father gamble away all the money?” Will’s quiet question brought Simon back to the present. He turned to look at his
youngest brother.
He supposed directness was in order.
“No, not all.” Simon glanced ahead as the cottage of Mr. and Mrs. Morrison came into view. “After settling his debts, I attempted
to invest the remainder to keep it safe, but it is truly my inheritance from Mother that has supported us the past two years.”
And it would not last forever.
“And it’s not enough?”
How much should he reveal? Simon shrugged. The boy had already seen more than he should through observation alone. “Not at
present, no. We lack the investments to secure more income, and much of the revenue we once had from rents has dwindled.”
He forced a smile. “But those finances will grow. They must. Though not quickly enough to meet Aunt Agatha’s demands or the
needs of the present.”
Which, of course, meant Simon would be attending the theater with Miss Clayton on Thursday.
It was quite possible that Alfie and Fia developed a lifelong friendship over collecting insects rather than strawberries.
Alfie, only five years Fia’s senior, recognized that she’d replaced him as the youngest of the group and set about leading her along and pandering to her as if he were her very own brother.
The boy, with his brown curls and hazel eyes, had always had a deep affection for younger children, and Emme smiled at his ability to exhibit his patience and attention to little Fia, who drank in Alfie’s devotion.
His patience was in much less supply during lessons . . . and tidying up.
After a few stiff exchanges with Mrs. Thornbury, Emme offered Aster a grateful smile as her sister launched into a rather
animated conversation about all the places Mrs. Thornbury had traveled in her life. From what Emme overheard at a distance,
the woman’s younger years swarmed with travel since she’d been married to a navy captain, so Aster was at her most inquisitive.
Remarkably, the tight lines around Mrs. Thornbury’s face began to soften by degrees—whether from the sweetness of the strawberries,
the reminiscences of her adventurous past, or Aster’s infectious enthusiasm and attentiveness was anyone’s guess. Whatever
the reason, Emme was glad to see the transformation. She recalled how Simon, when they were courting, had spoken fondly of
his aunt, so Emme knew there had to be more to the woman than frowns and ultimatums.
So it was that Emme found herself in Charlotte’s company the most, or as a matter of fact, Charlotte seemed to follow Emme
wherever she went.
And the younger girl offered some delightful conversation, speaking of her horse, her nearest siblings, and of course, her
favorite books. It was clear that Charlotte Reeves desperately sought a female companion, or perhaps, more to the point, an
elder sister.
“Do you think Mrs. Patterson can find a use for all these strawberries?” Emme asked as she dropped another plump berry into the nearly overflowing basket.
“She’ll have enough to supply the entire village—and perhaps another basket or two, if your aunt and my sister can ever stop talking long enough to pick some. ”
Charlotte’s smile came slowly, but it lit her eyes. “She’ll make jam and cakes, provided we don’t eat them all first. But
you’re right, Aunt Aggie’s basket is suspiciously empty.” She cast a glance toward the animated figures of Mrs. Thornbury
and Aster, whose conversation seemed to have reached a particularly enthusiastic pitch. “They seem far better suited to conversing
than harvesting.”
“That much is plain.” Emme chuckled, glancing toward the horizon where the afternoon sun bathed the fields in golden light.
“Give Aster her drawing pencils or a willing conversationalist, and she’ll happily forgo any sort of outdoor labor. Still,
if good conversation is all it takes to win Mrs. Thornbury’s favor, then I am perfectly content to let Aster wield that particular
talent.”