Benjamin pushed himself up from the uncomfortable bed, rubbed his eyes and sighed. The inn did not have the most welcoming of rooms, but, thankfully, this was his last stop before he arrived at his new estate. He did not know what to expect, but he would be glad to sleep in a proper bed at least.

Rising, he dressed himself quickly without his valet, sucking in a breath as the cold air hit his bare flesh. Stamping his feet to get some warmth back into his toes, he realized as he did that this was the earliest he had woken in some time.

He opened the door to his room, his eyes still half closed as he emerged into the hallway.

“Oof!” Something — make that someone — collided into his chest, causing him to take a step backward into the doorframe as he reached out reflexively.

“Bloody he…” his curse died out as he looked down at the person he now held in his arms, having caught her before she fell, and was rendered speechless by the face staring into his. Light freckles dusted a pert nose, atop rosy pink lips and high cheekbones. The only flaw seemed to be slightly crooked bottom front teeth, yet somehow they added to the drawing allure of her face.

The eyes staring up at him were close enough that he could see the gold flecks in them as they widened, so startled she was. She seemed to have been coming from the room next to his and must have been moving at quite the pace to have run into him so hard.

She was just a slip of a thing, but he stood riveted to the spot, mesmerized by her.

“Pardon me,” she said stepping back from his arms, and after a moment of hesitation she was off, leaving him staring after her.

Behave, he told himself. He had not yet even reached his estate and already he was quite taken with the first beautiful woman who had, quite literally, stepped into his path. He shook his head and walked from the room in search of some sustenance.

“My lord!”

Benjamin grimaced at the innkeeper’s cheery welcome, not feeling half as awake as he appeared to be. “Good morning.”

“I’ll bring you something to eat in just a moment, milord,” the man continued, indicating a rough-hewn wooden table with a jug of water and something that looked like coffee already sitting on it. “Please, have a seat.”

Muttering his thanks, Benjamin sat down, eyeing the cup with a suspicious eye. It looked more like sludge than coffee, although he could not help but enjoy the aroma that rose from it. Lifting it to his lips, he took a tentative sip – and was quite surprised to find it was not as bad as he had thought. He looked up as his coachman approached.

“Milord, begging your pardon for interrupting you when you are to be having breakfast, but there’s a woman here who says she’s headed to your estate.”

Mildly irritated at being disturbed, Benjamin looked up at him. “And what of it?”

“She was asking if she might sit with me on the box, milord. She has a horse, but it has thrown a shoe and she has not the money to have it repaired.”

“And what is this lady to be doing at my estate?” Benjamin asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Of the maids, I believe.”

Benjamin shrugged. “Very well. Let her sit up top.”

“And what of the horse? She said she means to sell it, but there’s no time if we are to leave shortly.”

Rolling his eyes, Benjamin shook his head. “Tell them to send me the bill for the shoe and bring the beast with us.” What a maid was doing with a horse, he could not understand, but, wanting to be left in peace, he dismissed the coachman and waited for his breakfast.

* * *

After he broke his fast, Benjamin readied himself for the short trip to his estate. He made his way to his carriage, having forgotten the passenger that was to accompany him until he saw two figures sitting atop. Before climbing in, he glanced up, to find himself staring into eyes that were all too familiar — ones he had seen scarcely an hour earlier. This time Benjamin saw more in her expression. Within the biggest brown eyes Benjamin had ever seen, he also saw a large amount of fear.

For a reason Benjamin could not explain, he simply could not draw his gaze away from her and she, despite her station, continued to look at him. Managing to clear his throat, and reminding himself firmly that she was a servant and nothing more, Benjamin managed a small smile. “So we meet again. You are the new maid, are you?”

“I am,” she replied, before dropping her gaze. “I mean, I am, my lord.” Her cheeks burned with a sudden fire and Benjamin thought that she was one of the most exquisite creatures he’d ever had the chance to see. Struck by just how inappropriate such a thought was, Benjamin tugged his eyes away from the lady and went to sit inside, wondering as he did at her ability to afford such a room at the inn.

As the carriage moved away, however, Benjamin’s thoughts turned and he berated himself for allowing his mind to become so tainted by a pair of beautiful eyes such as the lady had. He was here to turn over a new leaf, was he not? And that meant that he would treat his staff with respect and consideration, and not have his way with any of the maids. That would be particularly difficult when such a fine specimen was among them but Benjamin was determined to show his father that he was a changed man.

* * *

“Here we are, milord!”

The cheerful shout of the coachman had Benjamin start in surprise, and he realized he’d fallen asleep. Were they here? Looking out of the window, Benjamin saw the rather large white stucco house coming into view, with small gardens but what seemed to be an extensive forest to the back of the estate. The gardens, while maintained, looked as though they could do with a fresh start, particularly since they lacked any amount of color. The house itself looked to be in decent condition, although some of the statues out front had the first touches of green. He would have to ensure the gardener got rid of any kind of moss or lichen for he thought the estate should have a somewhat grand appearance.

The carriage stopped just outside the front door and Benjamin was pleased to find the staff all lined up to meet him. He descended the carriage steps almost at once, and greeted the only two he remembered from his previous visits -- the butler, Smithers, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Martins. They introduced him to the rest and he nodded to each staff member, in turn.

“I am very glad to be here,” he said jovially to the assembled staff. “I am sure we shall all get along splendidly.” He dismissed them and, turning back to the housekeeper, indicated the maid who was climbing down from the carriage.

“This is our new maid,” he said, missing the startled expression on Mrs. Martins’ face. “The coachman met her at the inn. Something about a horse throwing a shoe, which is why she came with me. The horse itself can be stabled for the time being. At length, I shall talk to her about the creature and what we are to do with it.”

“Of course, my lord,” the housekeeper murmured, her eyes on the new maid. “It is very good of you to bring her here.”

“Well,” Benjamin chuckled, “I could not exactly leave her at the inn now, could I? Although why we need another maid, I am not quite sure, given that there appears to be so many staff members already!”

The housekeeper’s eyes flashed. “We certainly do need her, my lord. The house is large and there are a great many duties.”

He shrugged, surprised at how strongly the woman had responded. “You know the household best, Mrs. Martins! I defer to your better judgement.”

The maid, by this time, was standing just to his left, her eyes fixed on the ground. Benjamin was surprised to see just how small and slight she was, thinking that she looked to have a somewhat delicate constitution. He hoped that she was not about to faint, given how pale she looked. Perhaps she had travelled a long distance and was merely exhausted.

“Perhaps no duties for today, Mrs. Martins,” he said, wondering what had brought these words to his lips. He should not be showing special attention to any of the staff. “Ensure she is fed too, for she looks about to faint.” He smiled at the astonished housekeeper, confusion swirling in his chest as to why he had been so concerned over one of his servants.

“You are very kind, my lord,” came the maid’s low voice, but Benjamin merely shrugged.

“I had best go inside now and explore my new home,” he said, with a smile. “Mrs. Martins, a tray in the study, if you please. Coffee, not tea.”

“At once, my lord,” Mrs. Martins replied, bobbing a curtsy. Benjamin nodded, giving one last look up at the house before walking inside.

* * *

The house was large but not overly so. Benjamin wandered through it at his leisure, seeing it with new eyes as his responsibility, before eventually finding his way back to the study. The tea tray was sitting on his father’s broad mahogany pedestal desk, which gave Benjamin an uncomfortable feeling as he went to sit behind it. There was something about being at this side of the desk, as opposed to being sat in front of it. A sense of duty, of purpose.

“Although I am not sure whether I can fulfil those requirements,” Benjamin muttered to himself, adding a little milk to his coffee. He could not pretend that he was not already missing the pleasures of town, for they had been such a big part of his life for so long that they left something of a hole within him. To go from a large group of friends to none whatsoever felt strange. A sense of loneliness wrapped itself around Benjamin’s heart, and he sank back into his chair with a sigh.

“Perhaps I ought to send for a couple of friends,” he muttered to himself, his lips twisting into a grimace. He had no doubt what his father would say if he heard that Benjamin had recalled his friends from town. Then again, it was not up to the old man what Benjamin did and who he had to stay.

But I want to succeed, Benjamin thought to himself. The truth was, if he did choose to invite his friends, then chances were that he would, more than likely, be drawn back into that way of living. He would ultimately fail, his estate would fall and he would be cut from his father’s will. No, he could not ask his friends from town.

“Although I might ask some I have not seen for some time,” he mused to himself, pulling open the desk drawers to his right and left one at a time until he found some parchment. Twirling the quill pen that had been resting on the leather desktop between his hands for a moment, Benjamin dipped it in the inkwell and began the first of two letters, requesting the pleasure of each man’s company at his new estate. He had not seen either fellow for a good few years but now seemed like as good a time as any to re-establish their acquaintance. They both lived nearby, were unmarried, and owned their own title and estate, so Benjamin reasoned that they might be of some assistance to him, given that he had very little idea of what to do.

His quill scratched over the paper for a few minutes more until both letters were sanded, folded and sealed. Then, getting to his feet, Benjamin rang the bell and stood by the window, looking out over the gardens of his estate. His heart swelled with a sudden pride as he drew in a deep breath, master -- for the time being -- of all that he surveyed.

“Yes, milord?”

“I have two letters here,” Benjamin replied, holding them up. “And might you send up some of the accounts? I suppose I should look over them.”

The butler took the two letters but did not retreat. Instead, he set them down, walked to the other end of the study and opened a large drawer in the bookcase cabinet.

“You will find all the accounts here, my lord,” he said, setting down a large book on Benjamin’s desk. “The steward is available to see you and speak with you whenever you wish.”

“Make an appointment with him for tomorrow,” Benjamin replied, sitting down again and running his fingers over the book’s worn cover. “Say two o’clock in the afternoon.”

The butler nodded and picked up Benjamin’s letters. “Of course, my lord. Can I get you anything else?”

Benjamin shook his head, pulling open the front cover of the book and finding that it was filled with nothing but numbers.

“There is fresh brandy in the decanter, my lord,” the butler continued, when Benjamin did not reply. “And dinner will be served very soon.”

Benjamin muttered something unintelligible and waved the butler away, entirely taken up with the accounts book. Running his finger down the length of one page, he looked at all the numbers and the small description next to each one of what had been purchased.

The problem was that Benjamin was not particularly good with numbers. He could already feel his head beginning to thump as he tried his best to work out what had been coming in and what had been going out. While everything looked to be in order, if he did not go through the accounts himself, how could he be sure that there were no discrepancies? He had to make sure that he knew the intricacies of what went on in his estate, and that meant getting his head around the figures.

He bit back a sigh as his mental arithmetic failed him, yet again. With a quiet groan, he put his head in his hands. A sharp longing for London and all the pleasures that came with it pierced him, but Benjamin batted the pain away at once. He could not lose himself in daydreams about returning to that life, nor get mired down in self-pity. He had to do this. He had to succeed, for to return a failure meant that his future would be very different from what he had planned. There would be time for frivolity and joviality at a later date, but at this present moment, he had to embrace his new responsibilities and tasks with a fierce determination that, currently, he did not feel.

“Perhaps I shall look at the accounts tomorrow,” he muttered to himself, closing the book and pushing it to one side. Seeing the brandy decanter in the corner, Benjamin rose and poured himself a measure into a glass, swirling it around before taking a sip.

“I can do this,” he told himself, repeatedly, as the brandy slowly built a fire in his limbs. “I will not fail.”