Chapter Nineteen
Everett spread the map of the continent across his desk and traced the journey from England to Florence with his fingertip. So far to go for a woman alone with two strangers for protection.
Emily had initially been nervous about leaving London society behind at first, but had quickly changed her mind as they’d made firmer plans that included Taverham.
His new friend Whitney Crewe was boldly enthusiastic, and seemed to take the potential challenges she might face in her stride.
At least for now. Who knows what might happen to her?
He rooted around in the trunk, rediscovering all he’d once packed in readiness for a similar journey. Compass, letters of introduction, money hidden away everywhere he could think of. If Miranda had not come back to her husband, he would be on the continent right now—drinking wine in foreign taverns, sleeping under different stars, seeing a world beyond England’s shores, like many of his friends had already done in their youth. Like Taverham, he’d inherited the family estate as a young man and, with no brother to succeed him, he’d lived a dutiful life in the countryside.
Until now, he’d accepted that such a trip would be denied him forever.
But what if it wasn’t?
He shook his head, dismissing the idea as fantasy, and packed everything away, slid the sea chest back under his desk and dropped into his chair. Perhaps he could consider traveling one day, but when that might be possible, he didn’t know. There were too many uncertainties in his future to make any plans for himself.
There was Emily to care for.
And perhaps Alice Quartermane to marry still.
A tap at his door broke him from his brooding. “Come,” he called.
Thompson stepped into the room, a hesitant smile on his lips. “May I interrupt?”
“Certainly,” he promised, gesturing the man inside. “What can I help you with?”
“The repairs are finished,” Thompson stated as he shut the door.
“Excellent,” he exclaimed. “I must confess, I had a look early this morning and thought it must be almost done. Congratulations.”
“So that’s everything.”
Everett smiled. Not everything. He had a proposition to discuss now. “Sit down, Thompson.”
Thompson did, and looked at him expectantly.
“We’ve been friends for a long time and it pains me that you’re in this situation, but I would like to offer you a position.”
Thompson’s brows rose. “Employment?”
“Indeed. Warstone could use a man who knows how to get things done.”
“Such as?” Thompson regarded him warily.
“Improvements, estate management, and the like. Duties of a steward. The position comes with a generous income and a newly repaired cottage to live in rent-free.”
“Why would you want me for your steward? I know nothing of managing an estate. My father—”
“Your father is a fool to not see your potential. Your work on the cottage is proof of that. Everything ran smoothly and ahead of schedule. You are a man who knows how to make things happen. I know your finances right now do not allow much room for ambition, but one day, perhaps not too far away, things might be different. I want you to remain at Warstone and learn the ropes of managing an estate such as this.”
“Because you’ll be too busy being a doting lapdog while your wife shops in London,” Thompson smirked.
Everett shifted in his chair, uncomfortable with the suggestion. He’d already escorted Alice to the shops a few times in London and had found it the most boring of pastimes. “I’m offering you a chance to discover your strengths and to make something of yourself one day. Here, you will be far away from your father’s criticisms and your brother’s scorn.”
Thompson said nothing to that, but Everett was certain his friend was giving the matter serious consideration. Allowing Thompson to return to his family, begging for scraps, was unthinkable to him. “The matter of your employment could remain between us and my servants, if you like.”
“You would let me pretend?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. Taking a position as his steward could cost Thompson more of his standing in society, and he had precious little left. Thompson must find an honest way to support himself soon. His father had cut him off without a penny, and the burden of living on the charity of others must be wearing him down.
“I’ll do it,” Thompson said, looking him in the eye, shoulders and back straightening. “I’d be proud to have anyone know that I worked for you.”
Everett grinned. Thompson was a brave man. “Excellent. Shall we discuss your duties?”
Thompson nodded. “I have some ideas for improvements, too.”
“I rather thought you might have something extra up your sleeve after your weeks here.”
“Rose Cottage?” Thompson asked.
“Is not to be touched or discussed,” he said quickly.
Thompson nodded slowly. “As you wish.”
“Now, what I want from you is—”
A rapid knock sounded on the door before he got any further.
“Yes, what is it?” he called.
The Quartermanes’ maid edged into the room. “Miss Quartermane is ready to go calling.”
“Please wish her a pleasant outing,” he told the woman immediately.
He would not go. Alice only wished to visit the Taverhams, where he was not invited anymore.
He shooed the woman out of the room when she lingered. “Off you go. I am very busy today.”
The woman backed out of the room reluctantly, worrying her lower lip.
“Now, where were we,” he said to Thompson. “Firstly, we need to hire loggers to cut wood for the coming winter months. Speak to Blake in the village first. He’ll round up some local lads to assist, who’ll take payment in lumber or coin. The head gardener can provide an estimate of what must be cut for the estate.”
Thompson nodded, quickly making notes in his pocketbook.
“Now about the cattle. The bull was put to the herd, so there is nothing to be done now but wait for the inevitable outcome. About nine to ten months for that. You’ll find several books in the library you can use as a reference. After that—”
Another knock sounded, and he gritted his teeth before answering. “What is it now!”
He scowled as the door opened and Mr. Quartermane stepped into the room, hat in hand. “Good morning, my lord.”
“Mr. Quartermane.” He’d been avoiding the man all morning and was not happy to see him.
“I was sent to fetch you for our outing,” he stated, looking about the room curiously.
“I told your maid that I was busy right now,” he told the man, wishing Quartermane would hurry up and go.
Unfortunately, Quartermane was a man of many words when it was a subject he liked. “We could wait a few moments, or I’m sure Mr. Thompson wouldn’t mind returning later.”
“Yes, of course,” Thompson agreed, standing.
Everett didn’t care for that. If he was going to wriggle free of the parson’s noose, he’d better escalate his belligerence. He gestured Thompson down again as he stood and rounded the desk to face the interloper. “This matter will take most of the day to sort out.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. I merely have much work to do.”
“Perhaps I could be of help,” Quartermane offered, smiling with an enthusiasm Everett did not share. “I know a fair bit about the trading of cattle and such.”
He regarded his future father-in-law with growing annoyance. Everett had been managing Warstone for a decade, and before that, his father had included him in every major decision for the estate. He wasn’t a young man wet behind the ears. He didn’t need or want Quartermane’s advice on how to make his herd more profitable. He wanted Thompson to learn from him. “As do I,” he insisted. “Have an enjoyable outing with your family, sir.”
“We’re to visit Twilit Hill,” Quartermane murmured, finally appearing annoyed with him.
“Give my best to the family.” Everett smiled tightly, determined not to give any ground on the matter. Quartermane had approved of him, and to be free before the wedding day, the man would have to disapprove of him.
Quartermane finally took his leave, casting a disgruntled glare over his shoulder. Everett walked to the door after he’d gone and locked it decisively to keep out any further interrupters.
He turned back to Thompson to find his friend grinning. “Not one for calls this week?”
Everett shook his head. “The first rule in working for me is for you to ignore every one of Quartermane’s suggestions,” he told Thompson.
“Good,” he agreed. Thompson’s grin widened. “I don’t envy you your future with him in the family. He’s a bit of a braggart, isn’t he?”
“Indeed, and much too free with his advice for my taste. For the record, should the subject ever be raised to you, I would never countenance a large-scale logging on the estate. That is something Quartermane has yet to accept.”
“Right you are,” Thompson agreed. “I suppose you hardly need the blunt anyway now,” Thompson teased with just the faintest hint of envy.
Thompson knew little of the costs associated with maintaining an estate yet, but he soon would if Everett had his way. “My coffers are not endless, man. Economy and good management are essential for any estate to thrive.”
Thompson shifted nervously. “My father throws money around and makes everyone else worry about the details.”
Thompson’s father was rumored to leave his eldest son a nightmare of debt when he passed. “I am not like that, and I am also not in debt like your father, or ever plan to be,” he promised. “I’ll teach you how to avoid it, too.”
Thompson sat up straighter. “Trees, cows. Careful spending. What else?”
“Tenants,” he said, and then summarized his suspicions for future repairs needed. “An inspection is required before winter.”
Thompson nodded enthusiastically. “I can start on that today as I introduce myself as your man here, and make notes of their concerns as I go.”
“That is a very good place to start.” It was a relief to have someone to talk to again. Someone who had no personal agenda where the estate was concerned. Thompson was a personable fellow. The men he’d employed for the cottage repairs had seemed to like and respect him. That too was essential for the efficient running of an estate.
When they were done, Everett took Thompson with him to explain the changes to his butler and housekeeper. And then escorted him to his new lodgings, the cottage he’d worked tirelessly on for weeks.