Donald took the message as a large grin spread across his face.
“He asked me about the new investment. He is eager to participate in the arrangement John and I created to rid you of the silver veins under your estate. I told him everything,” Donald said as he read the entire note. “Did you read this? I never doubted your father’s loyalty even while he hid his identity. Between that and your efforts to keep my treasury filled I was happy to let your father decline the title in favor of you. Earl Hugh Eden of Sagamore. It sounds good to the ear. Give my regards to the Countess, your wife. E.
“Wait. There is a postscript. And your brother Donald, that dashing young man, is worth at least a dukedom, perhaps one of the drafty castles in Wales—”
“Give me that.” Graham grabbed the message out of his hand and examined the parchment. “He said no such thing.”
Laughing, the three brothers walked through the garden into the library. Charlotte and her father, Miles, sat at the desk.
“King Edward thinks our Donald should be a Welsh duke,” Hugh said.
Charlotte and Miles glanced at him with dour expressions, a correspondence in her hand.
The levity drained from Hugh’s expression. He sat next to her. Graham and Donald followed suit.
“Edward?” Hugh asked.
“No, Isabella. She sent a lovely note of congratulations on our wedding. It’s the rest of her message that confuses us.” She handed the parchment to Hugh, her voice full of concern. “She said they’ve had to let some of the workers go. They moved on to other vineyards. What will they do when it’s time to harvest? We will need every hand we can get when it’s time to harvest the grapes.”
“She goes on to say the houses in the lower area of the vineyard are uninhabitable.” Miles was physically upset as Hugh read on. “We ordered repairs on those houses and gave Monsieur Gershon funds with instructions to pay the bills. As far as I know, that work is completed. But here, Isabella says the lack of repairs is one reason the workers left”
“She mentioned the winery is having financial trouble,” Charlotte said.
“How is that possible?” Hugh said, reading the next page. “The report from the guild master is right here and those numbers do not show a decline in revenue. Quite the opposite.”
“Hugh, you know better than I that the guild master only looks at the income,” Miles said. “The money lender holds funds to pay the bills. According to his message several months ago, expenses increased at the winery. To avoid taking too much out of the account, Charlotte increased the monthly amount she sends Isabella and Jeanne Marie. They should have more than enough funds.”
“Yet, Isabella says there is barely enough money for them.” Hugh handed the message to Miles, who read it again as if he would find different words.
“I… I don’t understand. I thought—” Miles moved papers around on the desk and pulled one from beneath the stack. “Funds are left in the winery account to pay our expenses until the harvest is over. That’s when we settle the receipts and give Nolan his portion.” Miles shuffled more papers.
“The winery profits from last year should more than cover the expenses for this one.” Hugh drummed his fingers on the table.
“Just as I thought.” Miles held up a document, shaking it as if the information would jump off the page to prove his point. “We did pay for the house repairs. No one told me of anything exceptional that required additional work. Gershon would contact me if he needed more funds. The wine industry in Châlons is a small group of local people and the guild master’s messages have been nothing but glowing.
“My father-in-law and his partner LaBarge ran a good business. Maurice understood everything, from growing the grapes, fermenting, to putting the wine into casks. I worked with him. Maurice was a patient man eager to share his knowledge, an excellent teacher. When LaBarge died, his nephew, Nolan, took his place. The boy is bright and competent. He’s intent on keeping account of what he does and what happens at the winery. He writes everything down in his journal. He earns his forty percent.”
“Has Nolan said anything?” Hugh asked.
“Nothing. His messages are mostly positive.” Again, Miles looked through the accounts on the desk and pulled out a note. “Here is his last message. He doesn’t mention anything about financial trouble at the winery. There was a problem with drainage after some heavy storms in the lower section of the vineyard and he’s trying to save those grapes by delaying the harvest. He wants to give them more time to sweeten, but nothing more.”
“Isabella says if the men don’t return, she plans to help with the harvest. This is the first we’ve been told of such hardships. I don’t understand. Our workers are a close group, like family. Surely they’ll return,” Charlotte said.
Hugh stopped drumming his fingers on the table and gazed at his brothers looking from one to the other.
“Donald, you are correct. John is deep into negotiations with the king’s associates. To add to that, this estate has laid unoccupied for thirty years and there is much I must do here not only for the hall, but for the land. I hoped you would go to France and deliver the contract to DuClare and Rodigio.”
“You have only to ask,” Donald said, his seriousness a departure from his teasing casual manner.
“John and I will make sure everything is ready for you. It won’t take too long. Going forward you’ll be doing more and more with them. The three of you got along well when you met in London.”
Hugh gave their little brother a sizable responsibility. Graham knew Donald was up to it even though he was smug and at times he wanted to thrash him. Donald was loyal, and good, and would take care of Hugh’s business as if it were his own.
Graham looked at his brother. Hugh worked hard to build his business, one coin at a time. But the responsibility of the earldom weighed heavily on him. Graham had to agree, right now he belonged here at Sagamore Hall.
As for himself, he was eager to return to Glen Kirk. He preferred caring for his fine stable of horses and riding Merlin, his prize stallion, to sitting in the salon and negotiating. He enjoyed the challenges and accomplishments of physical work.
“I cannot spare John at the moment.” Hugh turned to him. “And I have to remain here. After reading Isabella’s message I must find out what’s happening at the chateau and with Labatrelle. I need your help, Graham.”
Everything inside him told him to say no. But how could he deny Hugh? It was Hugh who held him together five years ago when Isla died, the child with her.
He stood by Isla’s grave. He didn’t fall to pieces when he put the babe in her arms before they laid them both to rest. The poor thing never drew a breath. They both looked peaceful, asleep. Grief came in waves threatening to consume him. He prayed Isla knew he held her in his arms and was with her as she slipped away.
He kept everything together in front of his family, but alone with Hugh was a different story. Wet hot tears filled his eyes. His throat closed tight and each word he said was pitched higher than the last he tried to get out. When he couldn’t hold the tears back any longer they flowed unchecked down his face.
His brother was by his side as he sobbed. Hugh gave him strength to cry without shame, and at the odd time even laugh without guilt. Mostly, his brother sat with him and said nothing.
The sobs and numbness were gone, but not the misery. Even now five years later a stabbing pain comes out of nowhere. She had been his anchor, his friend, his lover.
Somehow Hugh knew when he was adrift, when the emptiness hit him the hardest. Those were the times his brother gave him strength. Donald and his parents stood at his side, but Hugh was the one who saved him from going crazy with grief.
No. He would never deny Hugh’s request.
“You will have to take care of Merlin. He tends to be bad-tempered at times,” Graham said. “Have you seen him exercising in the enclosed field by the stable?”
“Shamelessly parading in front of the mare is more like it,” Hugh said. �
��He keeps trying to make Fleur run with him, but she stands her ground.”
“True, however, when he runs too far afield, she looks for him and prances enough to demand his attention,” Graham said.
“You don’t need to worry about him while you’re gone. Why don’t you leave Merlin here? I’ll personally take care of him. A week or so at the chateau and travel time, you’ll be back to your stables in three to four weeks,” Hugh said. “Find out what’s happening with the winery and the chateau. I’ll give you authority to put everything right.”
Three weeks wasn’t that long.
“Merlin could use a companion. He’s very picky at the stable. Make sure you let him run full out. He enjoys a good race.”
Hugh wrote several notes, got up, and pounded his brother’s back. “You have my thanks. Take these. They are letters of introduction for the guild master, Monsieur Olivier, and Monsieur Gershon, who handles all our finances. To avoid any confusion, this last one is a personal note for Jeanne Marie, Isabella, and Nolan naming you as our representative with full authority to act on our behalf.”
Graham stared at the notes then Hugh. “This is a heavy responsibility.”
“One that you are up to. Charlotte and I left the chateau three years ago. We didn’t plan to be away this long. Jean Marie and Isabella see to everything. This all comes as a shock.”
Graham tucked the notes in his belt. “I have a few things to do before I leave for France.”
“You go to the winery at a good time, the middle of the grape harvest. You’ll be able to see what’s happening.” Hugh handed him a scroll. “Every year, Olivier sends an accountant to substantiate his review of the winery. Here is his report from last year.”
“I’ll write to Jean Marie and Isabella now. I’ll send more funds and let them know to expect Graham,” Charlotte said.
Graham turned to his younger brother. “Come, Donald. The faster we return to Glen Kirk and prepare, the faster we can give Hugh his information.”
He and Donald headed toward the barn with Hugh. While Donald got the horses, Graham stood with Hugh by the enclosed field and watched Merlin and Fleur standing side-by-side, munching grass.
“They are well suited,” Hugh said.
He glanced at his brother. “Why do I think you had this planned all along? Sending me to France and conveniently leaving Merlin with you to be tempted by this beautiful piece of horseflesh.”
“It wasn’t my intent,” Hugh laughed. “But Merlin does appear to be content, not his usual skittish self.”
“Fleur has a calming effect on him.”
“It’s a woman’s trait,” Hugh said.
“You’re more settled, at peace. You would usually be the first on a ship to France.”
“See how she shakes her head, her silky mane shimmering? All to entice him.” Hugh nodded toward the horses then faced him. “There is a lot to be said for contentment.”
Graham let out a sigh. Like Hugh, Merlin was doomed. He was wondering if he’d ever get Merlin, or Hugh for that matter, to leave Sagamore.
Donald walked over to them, leading two horses.
“You have my thanks for your hospitality, even if I am now paying for it dearly.” Graham shook his head as they walked the horses to the front of the house.
Charlotte came down the front steps.
“I hoped you hadn’t left yet. Safe travels. Please tell Isabella and Jeanne Marie that I miss them. And,” she hesitated.
“Did you want to tell me something?” Graham asked.
Charlotte gazed at him. “Isabella is wonderful. We grew up together, but she can be a bit difficult to win over.”
She kissed each brother-in-law on the cheek, then stood close to Hugh.
“You have nothing to worry about. I have no need to win over the woman, just straighten things out.”
Mounted and ready to go, Graham said to Hugh, “I will return with your answers in three weeks, four at the most.”
He and Donald started down the drive. Before they went through the gate, they glanced over their shoulders and waved to Hugh and Charlotte.
“He beguiled us to do his bidding,” Donald said, as he turned and looked ahead.
“We can spare three or four weeks, or are you afraid the king will forget you? Give your dukedom to someone else?” Graham teased.
Donald turned to his brother. “Never. I’ll race you to the meadow. Without you riding Merlin, at least I have a chance to win.”
He raced off.
Graham held his mount back, but she was eager to catch her stall mate.
“Easy, girl.” The horse pranced, unable to stay still.
“Just a little more. That’s it. Get ready.” He patted her neck. He was as eager as the horse to race.
“Now, girl. Fly.” He gave the horse the bit and they flew after Donald, passing him, leaving him in the dust.
Chapter Two
Châlons-sur-Marne, France
August 1289
The walled chateau sat on an outcropping above the winery with a view of both the upper and lower vineyards as well as the stream that led to the Marne River in the distance.
The vineyard with its own winery was a large triangle and adjoined other estates. This was the Champagne region, where vineyards dotted the landscape.
The winery was a large rectangular building, built into an outcropping and sat at the widest part of the property. It had two levels, the ramp on the side of the building led to the office on the upper level.
Isabella hurried across the winery’s courtyard munching on a few grapes she plucked from the vines. The weather was uncooperative for late August. Usually wet in May, not August, the rains poured down on the valley last week without stop. All the wineries were concerned about the year’s crop. Two days ago, the sun came out, but the humidity was almost unbearable. It was better yesterday and today. Now, she searched above at the gray clouds that dotted the sky. “By all that is holy, please no more rain.”
A wagon filled with a single cask waited in front of the office. Before she reached the building, Nolan came out.
“How are the grapes?” he asked.
“They’re ready to be harvested. These are particularly sweet. Even with the seeds, I find it hard to stop eating them.” She clutched the grapes a bit too tight crushing the skins and sending a trickle of juice down her hand. Not willing to toss them aside, she gobbled the last few and wiped her hands on her apron.
Knowing when the grapes were ready was an essential part of wine making. Maurice taught her and Charlotte the nuances of tasting, how to judge the sweetness, and the exact moment to harvest. She and Charlotte thought they were the luckiest of girls being given such an important job…eating grapes. The memory of walking the vineyard with Maurice while he went on about grapes or his service in the Crusades brought a smile to her lips.
“You worry about the chateau and let me worry about the vineyard. I was on my way to give this to you – a message from England.”
He handed her a square of parchment. “I should have given this to you earlier, but Felix had an issue that needed—”
“Please,” she interrupted. “You have much more important things on your mind than a message from Charlotte.”
“I’m off to the guild hall to deliver the cask to Olivier. Would you like to join me?”
Isabella opened the note and read it through. “Merde.”
“Isabella, a profanity?” Nolan laughed. “It can’t be that bad.”
“She is sending her brother-in-law.” She scanned the message. “Graham Eden. She and her husband should be here. I was sure they would come.” Especially after she sent her message.
“When does this Graham Eden arrive?” Nolan’s jovial mood had quickly changed.
“Within the next two to three weeks. She goes on and on about the weather and how well she and her father are doing.”
“I went into Châlons and took the liberty of cashing the bank note she included,” Nolan said. He gave he
r several deniers.
She handed half back to him. He didn’t argue.
“Is there enough to hire more workers?”
“No.” He adjusted the bridle on the horse. “There aren’t enough funds. I’ll have to leave the grapes on the vine in the lower vineyard. There isn’t much on those vines. We can keep them healthy. I’ll have a few local people come and pick what they want.”
“There’s still time for you to tell Charlotte—”
“No. We discussed this before. We can manage this ourselves. I’ve asked the men to come back for the harvest, and some have. But the others are committed to other wineries.” He heaved himself up into the wagon. “You are sure you don’t want to go into Châlons?”
She stood next to the wagon. The oak cask had the Labatrelle insignia burned into the head of the barrel, along with the date they sealed the wine inside: August 1288.
“Where did you find this cask? There was none left from this vintage. Those racks are empty.”
“I found this lone cask on another rack mixed in with another vintage.” Nolan picked up the reins, his foot ready to release the break. He gave her a questioning look.
“Go along without me.”
Donald and Graham stood at the rail as the riverboat came into Lagny. The town followed the contour of the river. On the dock, wagons waited to receive or load cargo. Crowds of people scurrying about created excitement in the area. Graham looked up a narrow lane with closely built houses. In the distance, he spotted the town square.
The boat secured; the crew moved the gang plank into place.
“Monsieur,” the captain said to Graham. “We will be stopping here for about two hours long enough to unload cargo.”
“How long is the sail to Châlons?”
“With the wind at our back, three hours. Enjoy your time in Lagny.” The captain tilted his head as he touched the brim of his cap in a salute and waved his passengers off the ship.
Donald and Graham left the boat and walked toward the town square.
“Hugh said the Auberge de Gilet was the best place to eat,” Graham said as the lane emptied into a large area filled with activity. “Look for a sign with a copper kettle.”
Graham: Pirates of Britannia Connected World (Sons of Sagamore Book 2) Page 2
