Chapter 20
The Musgrove ladies soon settled into the rhythm of the house, and Max was able to resume his work with the farmers and the tenants. The problems of long-term neglect and lack of investment had badly impacted the land, and Max was at something of a loss about how to deal with everything.
After corresponding with his father about the problems, he was somewhat surprised one morning when a man arrived, claiming he’d been sent by the duke to attend to such matters.
“My name is Nicholas Lake, my lord.” He bowed to Max and handed over a packet of papers. “I’m the son of the duke’s current land agent for his northern estates.”
Mr. Lake was a man of Max’s age who exuded the kind of calm competence Max would never be able to manage. He had dark brown hair, eyes to match with a humorous twinkle in them, and was of average height and build. He spoke with the cadence of a gentleman with a slight northern burr.
Max invited him into the library and offered him a seat by the desk. “Please sit down, Mr. Lake,” Max said. “Would you care for some refreshment, while I read through these documents?”
“A cup of tea would be most appreciated.”
Max rang the bell, and when Brice appeared, he ordered tea. “Please tell her ladyship that I’m currently detained and that I will see her at luncheon.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Max read his father’s letter first and then the glowing recommendations from others as to Mr. Lake’s good character and farming credentials. Eventually, he looked up. “Are you sure your father can spare you?”
“He is in his prime, my lord. There is scarce enough for me to do. I’d appreciate the opportunity to do more.”
Max knew exactly how that felt. “Perhaps you’d care to ride around the estate with me and see what you’d be letting yourself in for before you commit to working for me,” Max suggested.
“The last land agent absconded with the strongbox, leaving behind unpaid laborers, ruined farms, and tenants living in cottages with the roofs falling in.”
“So I heard.” Mr. Lake looked suitably horrified. “I am certain we can do better than that.”
“I’m sure my father has warned you that I know very little about restoring this estate,” Max said. “I will need a lot of help, but I am willing to learn, and never take offense when advice is offered in good faith.”
Mr. Lake said, “Then perhaps after that tea, we should go on that ride. I must admit I’m looking forward to a challenge. The duke’s lands in the north are so well run by my father that I’d appreciate being able to contribute more.”
They returned to the house well into the afternoon and ate lunch together at the kitchen table while Mr. Lake enthusiastically heard Max’s plans, while offering his own insight and expertise with a finesse that didn’t make Max feel stupid at all.
“The land agent’s cottage isn’t fit to be lived in,” Max said. “Would you object to staying in the house until we can get that fixed up?”
“Are you offering me the position?” Mr. Lake asked.
“If you want it,” Max said, and proffered his hand.
“Yes, I’d like that very much.” Mr. Lake shook his hand and smiled properly for the first time. “In truth, I can’t wait to get started.”
“Max, where have you been?” Allegra came into the kitchen and stopped short as she observed Mr. Lake. “Good afternoon, sir.”
Mr. Lake jumped to his feet. “My lady.”
“Allegra, this is Mr. Nicholas Lake. He has agreed to be my new land agent.”
“Excellent news. Perhaps this one won’t try and beggar us,” Allegra said.
“I’ll do my very best not to do so, my lady.” Mr. Lake bowed.
“Mrs. Smith is organizing him a room in the house, as the land agent’s house isn’t fit to keep our pigs in.” Max turned to Mr. Lake. “When do you think you can start?”
“I’ll go home tomorrow, speak to my father, and let you know the date of my return.”
“You will stay the night, though?”
“Yes, the mail coach doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning from Frome.”
“Did you walk from Frome?” Allegra asked.
“I managed to secure a place on a farmer’s cart for most of the way, my lady,” Mr. Lake said. “He dropped me off at the end of the drive.”
“I’ll take you back in the gig tomorrow,” Max offered. “You’ll join us for dinner at six.”
The next morning, Allegra woke up to find that Max and Mr. Lake had already departed for Frome. She breakfasted with her mother and sister, her mind elsewhere, which meant she struggled to follow the conversation.
“What’s wrong?” Carenza finally asked. “You’re speaking in riddles.”
“I’m sorry,” Allegra said. “Mr. Lake seems very nice, but I have to wonder why Max suddenly decided he needed a land agent when he insisted he could do everything himself.”
“Perhaps he had the humility to realize he was wrong,” her mother said. “It’s actually quite refreshing.”
“But why now? He didn’t discuss the matter with me at all, and suddenly there’s Mr. Lake.”
“I believe Max said the duke sent Mr. Lake, and it was quite a surprise for him, too,” Carenza said.
“Did he? I must have missed that, because he certainly didn’t mention it,” Allegra said.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Allegra.” Carenza rose to her feet. “This doesn’t mean that he’s planning on leaving you.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, I know as much as you do, because you refuse to have an honest conversation with your own husband,” Carenza said. “By the way, Mama and I are going out for a drive. Do you wish to accompany us?”
“No, thank you.” Allegra gave her sister a haughty look. “I suppose I should stay here and await my husband’s return.”
Carenza made no attempt to change Allegra’s mind, and half an hour later, she left with their mother in the open carriage, waving merrily as they turned down the drive.
Allegra, who had hoped to be persuaded out of her sulks, was slightly disconcerted to find herself alone.
She decided to retire to her parlor and write a letter to her and Carenza’s mutual friend, Olivia, who was still in London.
Fifteen minutes later, her peace was disturbed when Brice tapped on her door. “My lady, some … gentlemen have arrived. They are asking after his lordship and refuse to leave, even though I’ve told them he is not at home.”
“I’ll speak to them.” Allegra rose from her chair.
“They do appear to be rather intoxicated, my lady,” Brice said. “If you don’t mind, I will ask Mrs. Smith to alert some of the lads in the stables in case we need them.”
“I hope it won’t come to that,” Allegra said, with far less assurance than she felt.
As soon as she left her room, she became aware of the noise in the entrance hall and wondered exactly how many of Max’s “friends” had turned up. Gathering her courage, she raised her chin and walked into the hall. To her relief, there were only three gentlemen, and she recognized them all.
“What a pleasant surprise,” Allegra said as she greeted them. “Lord Landon, Mr. Shellings, and Mr. Courtland, is it not?”
“My lady.” Landon gave an elaborate bow. “How is married life treating you?”
“Extremely well, thank you.” She smiled. “How may I help you?”
“We want to see Max,” Mr. Shellings said. “Can’t believe he’s stuck down here voluntarily. You must have him tied up in a tower somewhere.”
The other two laughed uproariously, bathing Allegra in their brandy-laden breath.
“Max is currently in Frome,” Allegra said. “I believe he’ll return at some point today, but I’m not sure when.”
“Want to see him with our own eyes,” declared Mr. Courtland and then belched. “Worried about him. His mistress misses him, and so do we.”
“I don’t miss him,” Landon said. “He’s given me the cold shoulder.”
It occurred to Allegra that he was far less drunk than the other two, and her unease grew.
“If you wish to call back tomorrow—”
Mr. Courtland held up his hand. “We want to see him.”
“And, as I said, he’s not here. He’s in Frome. If you truly wish to meet him, I suggest you head over there. He’ll either be at the White Hart, or on his way back home. If you stay on the main Frome road, you’re bound to see him.” Allegra fought to keep her tone pleasant, but it was difficult.
Mr. Shelling punched Landon’s arm. “Could do that, old fellow. Leave this lovely lady in peace?”
“This lovely lady is the reason why Max is stuck here in the first place,” Landon said.
Brice took a step closer to Allegra. “My lady is asking you to leave, gentlemen. It is not fitting for you to call on her when his lordship isn’t present.”
Landon stuck his finger in Brice’s face. “How dare you speak to your betters like that? I’ll make sure Max fires you the moment he gets back.”
“I am back.”
Everyone turned toward the baize door leading to the servants’ quarters, where Max was now standing, his expression icy. “What in the devil do you mean barging into my house and annoying my wife?”
“Max!” Mr. Shelling flung his arms wide. “It’s you! We thought you were dead!”
“Delighted to see you, old chap.” Mr. Courtland rushed over to Max and extended his hand. “Wonderful news!”
Max ignored the outstretched hand, all his attention on Landon, who was staring right back at him.
“I await your explanation, sir,” Max said, with all the cool disdain Allegra associated with his father. “I don’t remember extending you an invitation to visit my house.”
“Oh, come on, Max. Someone had to stop these two fools from killing themselves,” Landon said. “They were determined to seek you out, and I came along because I thought they’d need my assistance.”
“How thoughtful of you.” Max turned to Brice. “Perhaps you could escort these gentlemen to the stables and make sure that my grooms see them leave.”
Brice took a step toward the men, and Landon frowned. “This is hardly the way to treat your oldest friend.”
“You seem to have a remarkably poor memory, sir,” Max said. “I distinctly remember telling you never to speak to me again.” He turned to the other two men. “Please go with my butler, or else I’ll have more of my staff escort you off the property.”