Thomas’s trip back in the carriage from London was fraught with concern. His uncle’s actions, his grandmother’s loss, and his need for rescuing the estate all occupied his mind.

The sun was just setting as the carriage pulled up in front of Pemberton Hall, and he stepped down to Willoughby’s greeting.

“Your Grace, I hope you had a successful and pleasant trip.”

Thomas frowned. “Thank you, Willoughby, but I am afraid it was not.”

“I am sorry to hear that. Might I fetch you something strong to refresh you? Perhaps a generous glass of spirits?”

“Not just now.” He started climbing the steps, and then said with an ironic laugh, “Yes, perhaps I shall. I must face Grandmamma with some unpleasant news, and I could use some fortification.”

“Very good, Your Grace.”

Fortifying himself with a large brandy, Thomas paced the library. He needed to see his grandmother, but he could not escape the need to figure out what to do to rescue the estate. He needed to find a new source of income. His father and grandfather had not actively utilized the lands of Pemberton Estate. There were no tenant farmers, no grazing livestock, no agricultural development of the land—a great deal of it consisted of woodlands. Instead, they had relied on investments for their income. And that is where the current trouble lay.

Thomas believed that with careful management, he would eventually be able to rebuild the investment base. But that would take time, and he needed to find a new source of income soon.

His first thought was to somehow develop the potential of his estate’s lands. How might he find a way to utilize what he already had? It encouraged him to think that there might be a solution at hand. But he would need to give it further thought.

But for now, he must deliver the sad news to his beloved Grandmamma. And, as it was dinner time, he thought it best to have this conversation at dinner rather than in her sitting room.

These days, their dinners were rather subdued. There were no children, guests, or other family members to enliven the meals at Pemberton Hall. The large ducal dining room was too vast, cold, and uninviting for their intimate dinners for two. So, Thomas and his grandmother had gotten into the habit of having dinner in the smaller breakfast room.

“How happy I was to hear that you had returned. It has been lonely dining by myself while you were gone,” Grandmamma said, as she started the soup course. “I hope your trip was agreeable.”

Thomas did not immediately answer as he was dreading delivering the unfortunate news. But he looked up at her briefly before he started eating.

“Did you attend any social functions while you were in London?” she asked.

“No, Grandmamma. I was too preoccupied to make any social visits—except for Uncle Wilcox.”

“Ah… and how is my son?”

Thomas could not put the unpleasant moment off any longer. “I am afraid I must be the bearer of some rather unfortunate news.”

“Oh?” she asked, somewhat startled.

Thomas carefully and soberly laid out the entire story of his discoveries. Grandmamma listened quietly until he was finished. Only then did she resume eating her soup.

Thomas was surprised she did not respond to what he had told her and finally asked, “Grandmamma? Would you like to say something in reply?”

“I am trying to assimilate the immensity of what you have just told me. And I hardly know where to begin,” she said weakly.

“It is terrible, I know. And I have been struggling with how to respond ever since I learned about this.”

“I care not so much for myself,” she said, “But I cannot say how disappointed I am in Wilcox. I guess I should have had an inkling about his troubles when he asked me for money recently. I am afraid I was rather harsh with him and did not extensively enquire as to his needs. I knew it was for some gambling debts, but I had no idea he was so heavily in debt to so many different sources.”

“But he has taken nearly all of your money, Grandmamma. He stole it from you. And I cannot forgive him for that,” Thomas said.

“I understand. But he is my child. If he had explained his situation to me, I might have been able to help.”

“But his needs far exceeded what you could have offered.”

Grandmamma looked at him with the most sorrowful expression. “And as a result, he has also injured you, Thomas. What are you going to do? Are you going to pursue legal action against him?”

Thomas said nothing for a moment then answered, “It would cause a great family scandal if I did. So, I have decided to focus my efforts instead on rebuilding the estate. I still have some viable investments and I am going to try and figure out how I might put the estate to greater use. If I can find some new revenue, I feel I can recover eventually.”

“I feel just terrible, Thomas. I feel partially responsible.”

“Why ever would you say that? This is no fault of yours.”

“I do not know how Wilcox could have gone so astray. If I…” she drifted off into her inner thoughts.

“A man’s character is only partially formed by upbringing. I know from the way you raised me after mother died, that you gave the very best of yourself. I can only surmise that there is an inherent flaw in Uncle’s native character. It is not of your doing.”

“And have you decided on a course of action?” she asked.

But she was interrupted by the serving of the next course—which neither wanted, having lost their appetites.

After Willoughby left, they just sat looking at their empty plates.

“I am not certain what I shall do next,” Thomas said. “I need to find something that interests me and that I can believe will enrich the estate.”

“If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know,” she said.

He laughed. “If you had any money I might ask you for a loan, but, of course, that is not a possibility.”

“I have friends who might be able to help…”

“Thank you, but no. This is something I must deal with first on my own. But after I find what I want to do… who knows?”

Grandmamma thought for a moment and then said, “I must go to London. I need to meet with Wilcox. I do not believe this matter to be completely over yet. He must be made accountable for his actions, whether you take legal action or not.” She smiled. “Sometimes a mother’s chastisement can be a lot more effective than legal action.”

Aunt Rosemary and George had arrived separately and were greeted by Lord Ralph Comerford and his wife, Sara, as they entered the drawing room at Springford Manor.

“Happy Birthday, Sister,” his Lordship said, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

Rosemary waved her hand. “Too many birthdays to count anymore, Ralph. At five-and-forty I am too old to pay any attention, and too young to admit to anything over five-and-thirty.”

Ralph laughed. “My darling, sister. You passed five-and-forty more years ago than I care to remember.”

She gave her brother several pats on the cheek. “Be kind, dear Brother. Remember I am only your slightly older sister and I know all your dirty little secrets.”

As Rosemary was greeting Sara, Helena pulled George hurriedly aside and asked, “How are you holding up, dearest? I have missed seeing you so very much.”

“As I have you. Have you told your father yet about Thomas marrying?”

“Tonight at dinner. I thought it best to tell him when others were present. I think he is less likely to throw a fit if there are guests.”

Just then Helena’s younger brother, Timothy, came over and slapped George on the shoulder. “I say, Georgie, old chap, are you Aunt Rosemary’s new beau?”

George laughed nervously. “Not likely. We arrived at the same time but separately. And when are you going back up to Oxford for the next term?”

“Oh, do not remind me. I have been blocking it out all summer. Too much fun you know.”

“What are you studying?”

“Fly fishing.”

“At university?”

Timothy laughed. “No, dolt, in the Gloucestershire streams. I am blocking out uni entirely. Refuse to think of it until I absolutely must.”

Helena’s mother came over and took Timothy by the arm. “Dearest, you have neglected me terribly this evening. I should so like it if you would escort me to dinner when it is called.”

“Of course, Mummy.”

Ralph Comerford was what one might call a plain, solid sort of chap. He had made his fortune and his title by being one of the most successful shipping magnates on the western coast. He operated two dozen ships that plied the globe taking English goods abroad and returning with the prized goods from foreign climes.

The children took after their petite and lovely mother, Sara. However, she had a frail constitution and did not exert a strong influence in their lives. She was what some might call a ghostly, fading beauty. It was almost as though one could see through her when she spoke or glided across a room, barely parting the air she walked through.

Presently dinner was called, and his Lordship led the way with Aunt Rosemary on his arm. Sara and Timothy followed them, and lastly, George and Helena, who exchanged a few fervent words unheard by the others as they lagged behind to express their longing for each other.

As the second course was being served, Ralph turned to George and asked, “Mr. Edgerton, how is your father these days? I have not seen him since we met up in town at the bank.”

“He is fine, Your Lordship. When he knew I was to be present this evening, he especially bade me send you his personal greetings and well wishes.”

“Ah. Very good.” Ralph turned to his son. “You see, a gentleman with manners. Unlike some that are insolent, rude, and unruly.”

Timothy shrugged and set upon eating his fish.

Aunt Rosemary had tucked her napkin, most unladylike, in the neck of her gown. Ralph turned to her and said pointedly, “We were not raised that way, Sister. Napkins belong in our laps.”

She glowered at him and said, “Try eating a roasted sheep’s head, seated on the ground in a tent, as the desert winds are howling, and then tell me how to keep my dress clean.”

“We are neither eating a sheep’s head nor are we in the desert, dear sister, so you might want to adapt to being back in Great Britain.”

Aunt Rosemary disregarded him and wiped her mouth and belched.

His Lordship looked out over the table and addressed his daughter. “My Helena, I asked the Duke of Pemberton to attend this evening, but he declined saying he had pressing matters at hand and would be unable to attend.”

Helena cast a glance at George and replied. “I expect, Father, that is because he has recently become engaged, and I imagine he is consumed with this new development.”

Ralph’s face turned an apple red and he sputtered, “That cannot be. There has been no announcement in The Times. Impossible…”

Aunt Rosemary was enjoying this display immensely, and Helena was taking her time with the details.

“Oh, Father, dear, that is because it is a secret engagement. The lady in question does not wish to be known at this point in time, so his Grace has consented to keep her name anonymous.” Helena cast a quick glance at George who was beaming.

“But he is to marry you!” he insisted.

Rosemary laid her hand on her brother’s arm. “Dearest, sometimes things do not work out as we would like them to.”

“But he is my duke, and you are to be his duchess,” he warbled.

“Not now, it would seem,” Helena said, spearing a sprig of asparagus.

George looked at Helena with a look that asked if he should speak up now about their engagement, but she subtly shook her head.

“Good for old Thomas—a secret fiancé,” Timothy chuckled. “Now the gossips will have a good old natter about who the mystery woman is.”

Ralph turned to his son and announced, “This is not over. I intend to have a word with his Grace. We had an understanding…”

Helena countered, “Oh, Father, please. Let it go. Thomas is free to make his own decisions and, as I have told you many times, the Duke and I have no intention of marrying each other.”

“Then I suppose you had a part in his making that decision,” Ralph accused.

Helena sighed. “Not at all. How could I possibly engineer his marriage to another woman?”

“Then what am I to do with you now?”

Helena and George looked at each other briefly. Helena raised her hand just enough so that George would understand not to say anything yet.

“Now I will have to start all over again trying to find you a suitable husband.”

“Dearest,” Sara spoke up, “Not now. It is your sister’s birthday. Let us celebrate that. We can discuss the other matters another day.”

“Humph,” he growled.