‘It’s because Sir Rodger doesn’t pay him enough.’ Luke imaged the pittance Miss Radcliff must be earning.
‘If the old miser is spending the money on a party, he must be desperate to get rid of Miss Huntford,’ Edward addressed Luke in a rare moment of fraternal solidarity.
After what Luke had witnessed last night, it wouldn’t surprise him.
‘The only reason we’re going is so Luke can look over the other young ladies. Otherwise, we wouldn’t bother,’ their father offered with uninspiring assurance.
‘I haven’t said I’ll go, but speaking of bother...’ Luke sat back from the table and pushed his plate away, determined to discuss the other subject which had kept him up most of the night ‘...I intend to call on Lord Helmsworth while I’m home. I’d like to arrange for another survey of the disputed boundary land, and, if it’s determined to be his, then to arrange a lease of it or the rights to the river. I think it’s time we end our feud with him.’
The silence which answered his announcement echoed through the room. Everyone stared down the table at him as if he’d suggested they catch the plague.
Edward’s glare was especially sharp. ‘You think you’ll stroll into Helmsworth Manor and after twenty years he’ll deed us the land with the river simply because you asked him to?’
‘It’s worth a try.’ Luke trilled his fingers on the table, struggling to remain calm. He needed more to do in the country than search for a wife. Settling the old land dispute was it. He hadn’t thought the idea would receive such a hostile response. ‘We need the water to irrigate the west field. Without it, we can’t expect to have a profitable enough harvest next year to cover our losses from this one.’
‘I’m well aware of what we need, more so than you.’ Edward pointed his knife at him. The conflict between them had returned with Luke from Spain with a vengeance. Except this time it was different. He and his brother were more equal now than in the past and Edward didn’t like it any more than Luke did. ‘This isn’t school. You needn’t try and outdo everyone.’
‘You were the only one I ever outdid and only because it was so easy.’ Luke speared a piece of ham and stuck it in his mouth with a smugness he didn’t feel. In the heat of more than one battle, when he thought he wouldn’t come home again, he’d longed to end the old rivalry between him and Edward. Now he was here and all he could do was argue with him. It wasn’t right, but he seemed powerless to put an end to it.
Alma exchanged a troubled glance with their mother, who flapped a silencing hand at her sons. ‘Boys, it’s too early for this. If Luke wishes to try to settle the dispute, then he may. After all, it’s cheaper to pay a surveyor than a solicitor and if it benefits us, then good. In the meantime, we must make a decision about the Huntford house party. Edward, will you and Alma attend?’
‘We will if you want us to.’ Alma set her fork aside, her food hardly touched. The circles under her eyes were far darker than they should have been, even after a late night. She rose and made for the door. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’
‘I’d better see to her.’ Edward stood, his square chin stiff in the air as he marched to the door. He matched Luke in height, but had their mother’s hazel eyes and their father’s black hair. ‘I wouldn’t want anyone accusing me of failing as both a husband and an heir.’
Once he was gone, Luke’s mother shook her head. ‘Alma tries so hard to be brave and I tell her not to worry. Since we have you, there’s no reason to despair.’
Luke resisted groaning at having his value to the line stated so plainly. He rose, the tiff with Edward, as well as the memory of Miss Radcliff and the sleep it had stolen from him, crawling under his skin as much as his change of situation. Luke wasn’t likely to ever be the earl, and he didn’t want to inherit if it meant his father and Edward’s deaths, but he wasn’t sure he wished to foist the responsibility for Pensum Manor’s future on some unsuspecting son either. He’d seen the demands it had made on his family and the way it had treated him. It wasn’t something to envy. ‘I’m riding over to visit Lord Helmsworth.’
‘Luke, say you’ll come to the house party.’ His mother reached up and laid a hand on his arm. ‘You don’t know how much I want to be a grandmother, to have Pensum Manor filled with the giggles of small children as when you and your brother were small.’
He was amazed she could remember the laughter and forget the awful rows he and his brother used to have. Time hadn’t made them less intense, only more chilling.
‘All right, I’ll go.’ He’d rather spend time in a French prison than with the Huntford girls, but visiting them would allow him to make sure Miss Radcliff was well and Miss Huntford was upholding her end of the agreement.
He left the dining room and made for the stables. He shouldn’t concern himself with the welfare of a governess, but he hadn’t allowed any of the weaker men in his regiment to be bullied by fellow soldiers or even officers. He wouldn’t leave a poor governess to suffer under an indifferent, if not hostile employer. Nor would he allow anyone’s prejudices to stop him from coming to know her better. He couldn’t pursue her, but there was no reason why they couldn’t be friends.
* * *
‘Major Preston is coming here?’ Frances wailed from across the breakfast table after her mother made the announcement.
He’ll be here. Joanna stared down at the scuff mark on the toe of her half-boot to hide the flush creeping over her cheeks. She unclasped her hands from in front of her and allowed them to dangle by her sides. It shouldn’t matter to her if Major Preston was coming or not. His doings were not her concern, but the news made standing still difficult.
She waited behind her three other charges for them to finish their food so their lessons could begin. Since the family ignored her at breakfast, and most of the day, her worry quickly passed. She could drop dead of the pox behind them and they weren’t likely to notice.
‘All of the Inghams are coming.’ Lady Huntford didn’t look up from her morning correspondence, taking little note of Frances’s distress. Her blonde curls, like her daughter’s, were tight beside her full cheeks and small eyes. Bearing six children had made her stout, but not fat, and her lack of interest in anything besides gossip and dresses gave her wide face a perpetually bored appearance. ‘I thought you’d be pleased—after all, you were with him for some time last night.’
‘I wasn’t with him.’ Frances all but pounded her thighs in frustration.
This was enough to make Lady Huntford finally put down her letter and look at her daughter. ‘Then what were you two doing in the hallway?’
Frances looked to Joanna, who dropped her gaze to the back of the chair in front of her, noticing a chip in the finish. The chit didn’t deserve her help. Her silence meant Frances was forced to invent her own excuses for her mother.
‘We were talking. Miss Radcliff and I had stepped out for some air and he happened upon us. We discussed, uh, well, it was—what were we discussing, Miss Radcliff?’ Frances appealed to the woman she’d declared her enemy for her salvation.
You acting like a harlot with Lieutenant Foreman.
‘His return from Spain.’ It galled Joanna to use her private conversation with him to defend Frances instead of telling Lady Huntford the truth. She doubted how much good speaking up would do anyway. Lady Huntford would probably blame her favourite daughter’s misguided attempt at romance on Joanna.
‘Of course, I forgot he was telling us about Spain,’ Frances rushed. ‘An awful topic.’
‘I don’t imagine you’ll be forced to discuss it much with him since he’s resigned his commission.’ Lady Huntford sniffed before turning in her seat to face Joanna. ‘I noticed you were speaking a great deal with him. What were you thinking dominating so much of his time?’
‘He approached me, Lady Huntford,