Chapter Twenty
CHAPTER TWENTY
A sh pulled on a tailored jacket and regarded himself in the mirror. It fit well, but did it fit as well as the previous one? Perhaps not. He began to pull it off.
‘Sir,’ said Jacobs. ‘If I may be so bold as to suggest that this one suits you just as well as the previous ten you have tried on.’
‘I don’t own ten jackets, you impertinent jackanapes.’
‘It feels like ten thousand, sir.’
‘You do know that tacking the word sir onto a sentence does not make your words less insubordinate?’
‘Of course, sir. I would not dare to criticise a man such as yourself. Back to my original point, sir. You look as handsome as you always do in this jacket and you do not need to remove it to try on a different one. In fact, I beg that you do not.’
‘Do you have a pressing engagement you need to attend?’ Ash turned to take a look at himself from the side. He wasn’t normally a vain man but if one was going to propose to a woman, one ought to look one’s best.
‘No, sir, but from the way you are preening yourself, I imagine that you do have one and the day is getting away from us. We have been at this small task some forty minutes and that does not include the rest of your delightful ensemble.’ Ash glanced at the carriage clock and saw that his valet was not exaggerating. ‘I was hoping that, at some point soon, we could move on with our lives.’
‘I suppose this one will do,’ Ash conceded. He wanted to get on with today as well. It was time to stop prevaricating and do what he should have done a long time ago.
He made to leave the room but Jacobs called out to him, for once not sounding sarcastic. ‘Good luck, sir. She’d be lucky to have you.’
Ash nodded. He didn’t ask how Jacobs knew what he was planning to do. He supposed it was obvious. Jacobs and all the staff were probably aware that he was spending most of his nights away from home and it would not be hard to notice where he was going. Ash did not care; he was going to ask Amelia to marry him. He had no idea what her answer would be. If she said no, which was entirely possible, then he would have to think of a way to persuade her. He wasn’t worthy of her, but he was going to try to be.
He was almost to the front door when his butler approached him.
‘Sir, an urgent letter arrived for you some moments ago.’ He thrust it into Ash’s hands and bowed, retreating from where he had emerged.
Ash wasn’t sure what Harland did with his days but it obviously did not involve bringing him important correspondence.
He read the details of the message, swearing softly under his breath. His morning task would have to wait; proposing marriage was not something he wanted to rush and the contents of the letter needed to be dealt with without delay. ‘Harland,’ he called.
His butler appeared, his dour expression doing little to improve Ash’s disintegrating mood. ‘I need to travel to Easton Hall without delay.’ When he returned, he would need to deal with his butler; that correspondence should have been brought to him straight away. How much time had already been wasted? How much damage done? ‘Have horses brought round. I need to be ready to leave within half an hour. Send word to Jacobs to pack some clothes. I will be in my study.’
But before he could reach it to pen a message to Amelia, his front door opened and his mother strolled in, her maid travelling behind her with several new hatboxes. Rage flooded through him hot and molten. He had asked his mother over and over to curb her spending, and she was blatantly ignoring him time and again. As his mother, she was owed respect, but in return she should treat him in the same way. Her flagrant disregard for his requests illustrated her contempt for him. He had given her time to come to terms with their new financial situation but she had not heeded it; it was time to take more drastic measures.
‘Mother, I should like a word.’ He gestured to his study.
‘Later, James. Now I need to dress for dinner.’
‘As it is not yet noon, you will have plenty of time to ready yourself for this evening. This will not wait.’ He was not going to argue with her in front of the staff, but he was past being mindful of her feelings. She was a grown woman and should start acting like it.
He waited until the door was closed behind him before he started. ‘Mother, the hats you bought today will be returned. We do not have the finances to purchase them.’
Her spine stiffened. ‘Nonsense. I cannot return them. To do so will incite gossip.’
‘We will be talked about much more if we end up living on the streets.’
His mother clasped her necklace. ‘Don’t be so absurd.’
‘I am being nothing of the sort. We simply do not have enough money for it to be squandered on non-essentials. I have worked hard over the last few months to bring in some new revenue but that is about to be spent on repairs to Easton Hall and the surrounding properties. There’s been a flood and…’
‘But it doesn’t matter.’ His mother waved off his concerns. ‘We have always had enough money to see us through and…’
That was it. The end of his patience had been reached. This situation could not go on a moment longer. If she would not heed his words, he would have to make her see what damage she was doing. ‘Mother, you are coming with me. Instruct your maid to pack up your essentials and to follow on.’
Her eyes widened. ‘I told you I am about to prepare for this evening. I do not have time to go on some errand with you.’
‘We’re not going on an errand. We are going to Easton Hall.’ It was time to make his mother understand the reality of their situation, to see what her frivolous spending took away from the people who depended on Ash for their livelihood. His mother gaped at him, making no move in any direction. ‘You do not believe me when I tell you that we do not have the money for the hats. You need to see it for yourself. We are leaving right now.’
‘You cannot make me go in this ramshackle fashion.’ His mother’s voice was high-pitched and full of wounded outrage, but Ash was not remorseful. ‘I need to gather my personal effects and inform my friends that I will not be attending this evening at the very least.’
‘ Nothing is as important as this.’ How could his mother not see it? ‘We must leave now without delay. People’s lives are at stake.’
For the first time in his adult life, his mother stopped arguing with him. Perhaps she finally realised he was at his breaking point or perhaps she was stubbornly waiting to prove him wrong. Whatever the case, she stalked to the front door, her head held high. It didn’t matter to him if she made the whole journey in wounded indignation, only that she came and realised what he did; the people whose lives were being upended relied on the Ashworths to provide for them.
Harland opened the door for them but before he and his mother could take the steps down the street they came to an abrupt halt. Amelia and her sister were standing on his doorstep, a soft drizzle dampening their hair and washing out their skin so that they both looked pale and wan.
‘Lady Mortram, Miss Smythe.’ He bowed slightly, wishing he could tell Amelia everything then and there but knowing that he owed his mother her dignity.
‘Good morning, Mr Ashworth,’ said Amelia, looking and sounding so different from the woman he’d held against his body, it made his heart hurt. ‘May I have a moment of your time?’
Any other day, in any other circumstance, Ash would have said yes. But he had just emphasised to his mother the importance of leaving immediately and he could not go against that. Either he thought the tenants and their situation was of utmost urgency or he didn’t. Next to him, his mother shifted and he knew that he had to prioritise his people’s safety over a conversation with the woman he loved, that he had to stick by his own rules, otherwise his very argument would fall through. True, his tenants would not perish immediately; this was not like Young Eddie, but this crisis somehow felt very similar. They could get sick if he didn’t sort out the situation quickly; time was of the essence. He had to get to them as quickly as possible, to prove to them and to himself that he was there for them in their hours of need. Amelia was standing before him, admittedly a little pale but not in any immediate physical danger, unlike those whose lives depended on him. In that moment, it was clear to him who needed him the most.
‘It’s rather urgent, Mr Ashworth,’ Amelia persisted.
The travelling carriage was brought round and Ash ran out of time to speak with her. ‘I am sorry, Lady Mortram, but a critical situation has arisen which needs my immediate attention. I will call on you as soon as I am able,’ he said, holding out his arm for his mother. Even though she was clearly furious at him, he knew she would want to observe proprieties in front of other people.
As he passed her, he thought he heard Amelia whisper his name but he had no time to stop and pause. The sooner they were on their way, the better.