10. Chapter Ten #2
Colin stared at his brother. To his knowledge it was the first time Freddy had publicly supported his efforts to restore the house. Freddy’s timely intervention might help sway some of the people who adored his brother to support the cause.
“Thank you, Freddy.” Colin nodded. “As I said, anyone who wishes to help Freddy’s efforts with the farm and the grounds, please feel free to speak to him directly.”
There was a general stirring and yearning toward the door, but Colin wasn’t quite finished.
“I’m going to be frank with you all. We still need a lot of money to keep this place afloat.
I’m going to ask all of you to do something relatively painless.
” He paused and waited until he had everyone’s reluctant attention.
“This is a big house, and I don’t have time to go through every cupboard or check every painting or piece of porcelain.
I’d appreciate it if you could do that for me.
Separate the things you believe can’t be fixed and put things that you don’t want or think might be valuable in the small front parlour in the old servant’s wing. ”
“For what purpose?” the dowager countess asked.
“To sell, Grandmother.” He met her skeptical gaze head on.
“And denude the house of its treasures?”
There was a general concerned tutting and murmuring as if a flock of sheep had discovered a predator in their midst.
“Of course not. Most of the important stuff is tied to the estate and can’t be sold, but there might be other things that could make us a profit,” Colin said. “I think we all want the place to survive and thrive, yes?”
Lady Marcham sighed and rose to her feet. “Naturally we do, but I’m not sure that I agree with your methods. It all seems very… vulgar.”
Colin noticed a few heads nodding in agreement and fought to restrain his desire to tell them all to fuck off. It wouldn’t help and he’d shock his beloved grandmother who currently seemed intent on destroying all the good will he’d been attempting to raise amongst his dependents.
“Anyway.” Colin found a smile somewhere. “I’d appreciate it if you could all offer your help to Freddy or simply clean out a few cupboards.”
Everyone stood and began to wander from the room, talking amongst themselves. He turned away to see Mabel sitting quietly in the corner. Her concerned expression immediately became an encouraging smile which didn’t fool him one bit. He walked over to her and let out a breath.
“It’s not easy being a viscount.”
“You’re telling me.” She pressed her lips tightly together. “I really wanted to get up, add my two cents, and kick some ass. I mean, how ungrateful can you be?” Her expression changed again as she looked behind him. “Watch out.”
A gentle tug on the sleeve of his jumper made him look down into the sweet face of Joan, one of his elderly second cousins. She smiled up at him. “Connie and I think you’re doing marvelously, Colin, and we’d be happy to sort out as many cupboards as you need.”
“Thank you.” He returned her smile.
“And if we find a priceless Ming vase, we’ll split the profits with you.” She winked. “Just ignore the doomsayers. Most of us are right behind you.”
He thanked her again and watched her return to her sister Connie, and they left the room arm in arm.
Mabel stood up and took his hand in hers. “What a sweetheart.”
“She’s certainly restored my faith in humanity. I was about to despair.” Colin made a face.
Freddy strolled over. “What a bunch of ungrateful bastards. Only two of them bothered to offer to help and neither of them was Uncle Bradford.” He looked at Colin. “I’m beginning to understand how you feel.”
“Progress,” Colin said. “Have you got time to talk me through your proposal for the home farm?” He glanced down at Mabel. “I won’t be long.”
“No worries. I have things to do in the kitchen with Mrs. Reynolds. She’s teaching me how to make jelly.”
Freddy frowned. “Don’t you just open a box, stick the cubes in a bowl, and pour boiling water over them? Even I can manage that—although I quite like eating the concentrated cubes just as they are.”
“I think Mabel means jam.” Colin intervened.
“Yes, strawberry jam. The kind that goes with clotted cream and scones.” Mabel grinned at them both. “Apparently there is a freezer full of strawberries that needs to be used up before the whole thing breaks down.”
“That’s a lot of jam,” Colin observed.
“Not if we open a café. It will save us a fortune in the long run.” She blew Colin a kiss and left the room, leaving both men staring after her.
Freddy opened his mouth and Colin held up a finger. “Not now, okay?”
“You don’t know what I was going to say.”
Colin walked toward the door and started down the corridor. “Yes, I do.”
“No way, Jose,” Freddy said, following him.
“Don’t go all innocent and fake American on me.” Colin opened the door into his father’s study and allowed the dogs to precede them in. “You were about to say something about Mabel, correct?”
“And what if I was?” Freddy raised his eyebrows. “I like her.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“And she’s good for you, so maybe you should think about—”
“See?” Colin pointed at him. “It’s none of your business.”
“It is if you’re stupid enough to let the best thing that’s ever happened to you walk out the door.” Freddy suddenly looked serious, which was disconcerting. “Women need to be told stuff.”
“Says the dude with no girlfriend. Your first mistake is to ever assume a woman will take well to being told anything.” Colin sat down gingerly in his father’s chair. “Thanks for standing up for me, by the way.”
Freddy shrugged. “They bloody deserved to be told off. Ungrateful sods.”
Colin hid a smile as he opened the folder on his desk. “Can we talk about your plans? I’m really impressed.”
Mabel decided to seek out Lady Marcham before heading to the kitchen and Mrs. Reynolds.
She found her alone in the sitting room where she liked to do needlework on sunny afternoons.
Mabel was grateful Felicity wasn’t present, as Felicity tended to side with her grandmother regardless of a conversation’s topic.
“Mabel.” The dowager, who was rummaging in her vast sewing box looked up over her spectacles. “What can I do for you, dear?”
Mabel took a chair across from her and considered how to frame her request. The old lady was formidable, and Mabel was aware the dowager wouldn’t appreciate Mabel’s interference in family matters.
“It’s about Colin,” Mabel finally said.
“What about him?” Lady Marcham spread her embroidery over her knees and tightened the hoop on a new section. The piece was an altar cloth she was making for the church.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, because I know I don’t have the right, but—”
“Spit it out girl,” the dowager interrupted, meeting her eyes. “I’m not going to bite your head off.”
Mabel immediately felt like a parlour maid who’d broken a precious figurine while dusting.
“Okay, I understand that you have your concerns about what Colin is doing, but would it be possible for you to ask him about them privately rather than in a room full of people who might not have his best interests at heart?”