Graham: Pirates of Britannia Connected World (Sons of Sagamore Book 2)

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Graham: Pirates of Britannia Connected World (Sons of Sagamore Book 2) Page 8

by Ruth A. Casie


  “That pleases me.” It was her turn to be surprised.

  Carrying a parchment, Graham approached Nolan outside the winery office. He hoped this ploy worked. All he wanted to do was scare him into confessing. Nolan was with Felix and Hector. The two men had the good sense to say nothing to him.

  “Let’s go into the office.” He observed Nolan give the two men a silent signal.

  “This way.” Nolan led Graham inside. Felix and Hector brought up the rear. Before Nolan’s men could get into the office, Graham closed and locked the door.

  He turned to Nolan. “Now we can talk. Without any interruption.”

  “What have you been doing?” Nolan sat behind his desk, playing the owner of the winery.

  “Inspecting the property.” He put the parchment scroll on the desk. “Going over accounts, learning about making wine. I had an interesting talk with Monsieur Olivier.”

  Nolan’s face flushed red. Graham knew he was angry. So was he.

  “I have been very tolerant with you. Letting you run around as if you know what you’re doing. You may think your earl has something to say here, but that was an agreement with my uncle. When I took over we made a new arrangement.”

  “I haven’t found any agreement to substantiate your claim.” He hadn’t found any agreement to verify the initial one.

  “You must know that many deals are done on a handshake.”

  Graham leaned closer. “Think very carefully before you say anything.” He moved back and toyed with the parchment on the desk. “Handshake? Not over the ownership of a winery.”

  Nolan stood, focused first on the parchment, then on Graham. “Once Maurice died I reached a new agreement with Miles. I do most of the work, so I get most of the money.” Nolan’s over-pronounced words sliced through the air. “Miles is lucky he gets anything. Without me he’d never get his wine to market. He knew it. Before he left for England, we made a new agreement on a handshake.”

  Graham knew that was a lie, but without Miles here he couldn’t prove it. He picked up the parchment, ready to leave. But Nolan’s smug grin raised his temper.

  Graham straightened up and flexed his muscles, making himself appeared taller and wider, a battle tactic. A hardened warrior and leader stood in front of Nolan. One that did not cower to liars and deceitful men, or a man who stole and tried to put the blame elsewhere. His hand went to the hilt of his dirk. His body was menacing, but not as much as the cold look of conviction that told others he stood for what was right.

  “Any agreement you made with Miles is void. He isn’t the owner of the property. Charlotte is. ‘Handshake’, you say.”

  Nolan stood rigid, rooted to the spot.

  “As the countess’s agent, this partnership is dissolved.”

  The color drained from Nolan’s face.

  Graham grabbed the man’s hand, shook it, and made sure he squeezed it for good measure before he flung it aside. “That completes our transaction. I’m giving you notice. You and your men, including the two you sent to steal from the chateau, are banned from all of the countess’s holdings in Châlons – that includes the chateau, the winery, and vineyard. If you do not heed my warning, you will deal with me. Now take your men and leave. I spoke to Monsieur Gershon and told him you no longer have access to any of the countess’s funds.”

  “You can’t—”

  “Yes, I can.” Graham stood toe to toe with him.

  Shaken and angry, Nolan left the office. His men followed behind him.

  Graham listened to the mumbled voices and disturbed gravel. To his relief the men left. His anger subsided, replaced with the knowledge that he did the right thing. Cutting the little thief down to size was gratifying.

  He took the parchment, left the winery, making sure to lock the office door, and headed for the house. His satisfaction began to flag the closer he got to the chateau. By the time he entered the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of wine and went into the salon to try and forget what he’d just done.

  Isabella, carrying several clean goblets, pushed the solar door open with her hip and entered the room. She turned and jumped at seeing Graham slouched in the chair, his feet stretched out toward the hearth, a goblet dangling from his hand. She recovered from her fright and put the goblets on the sideboard with the wine decanters.

  “No need to be quiet.” Graham sat. He didn’t move.

  “I thought you were asleep.” Her voice had a gentle concern like Hugh’s all those years ago. He didn’t budge.

  She stepped toward him and removed the goblet. He didn’t resist.

  “You look like you’ve lost your last friend.”

  “Worse than that,” he said staring at the empty hearth.

  She didn’t press the issue; instead, she waited.

  “Nolan’s delayed harvesting the grapes to sabotage this year’s wine and it’s his contention that he does most of the work, so he gets most of the profits.” His voice was low and a bit hoarse. “He stood there and told me he was stealing, well to him it wasn’t stealing. He said he struck a new deal with Miles, on a handshake.”

  “What did you do?”

  He let out a deep breath. “I didn’t kill him, only because my sword is on the solar mantel. Instead, I dissolved the partnership and told him he and his men were not to step foot on any of Charlotte’s property.”

  “I wish I could have seen his face. I’m sure he didn’t take that well.” Her lips trembled with the need to smile. Another look at Graham and her smile faded. He was serious.

  He’s been here three days and he dismissed Nolan? What does he know about Nolan and the winery? She was sure Graham was too obstinate to listen to her and admit he was wrong. No. Perhaps she should speak to Nolan.

  But the grapes. There was no denying the boxes in the pressing room were from the vines in the lower field.

  The scrap of parchment Graham showed her. She’d seen the handwriting often enough to know it was Nolan’s. From time to time she had her suspicions about Nolan, but he explained them away.

  Where was her loyalty? Charlotte who she grew up with and was as dear to her as a sister? Nolan who was a friend who helped her with the chateau and comforted her when Eldon abandoned her? She didn’t owe Graham any loyalty. Although her heart ached at the thought.

  She should let Graham, Charlotte, and her English husband fail. It would serve them right. All she wanted Charlotte to do was send her money to maintain the chateau and come here herself to see what was happening. Instead her husband sent this man who thinks he knows everything, who turned her orderly world into bedlam.

  He laughed, a dry, cynical sound, then glanced at her. “I don’t know the first thing about harvesting grapes or making wine.”

  He returned to staring at the hearth. “I didn’t need a sword to destroy the winery. All it took was a single handshake.”

  It took a heartbeat or two for her to comprehend him even though he sat right in front of her eyes. She had never seen him so low. It was out of character.

  Someone has to take control. Once everyone’s tempers calmed perhaps she could make this right, but at the moment the grapes needed to be harvested.

  “You don’t need to know how to make wine, at least not right now. The men you worked with putting down manure, they know what needs to be done. Talk to them. Then speak to the others, the ones who left. Which wine are you drinking? It’s obviously the wrong one.”

  He sat forward and twisted to see her. “There’s a wrong wine?”

  “Yes.” She poured him a fresh goblet from a special decanter on the side table and handed it to him. “Drink this.”

  Graham took the goblet and glanced at its contents, sniffed its aroma. Tilted his head and gave her a questioning look.

  “It’s liquid courage. Drink it and you’ll see. Whenever Maurice had a difficult problem, he came in here. I would find him drinking this wine. He told me it was his liquid courage, the spark he needed to see his way. Now, go ahead. Drink.”

  “You bet
ter pour yourself some. We’re going to need all the courage we can muster.”

  Isabella poured herself a goblet. “To Labatrelle Winery,” she said raising her goblet.

  “To Isabella, whose words are enough to give any man courage.” His words came from his heart.

  Chapter Six

  Day Four at the Winery

  Louis walked into the winery office holding his cap. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Come in. Sit down.” Graham, his head bent reading the account journal, waved his hand at the chair in front of the desk. He closed the journal and looked up.

  “What happened to you?” Graham jumped to his feet and came around the desk.

  “I was on my way to the lower field and found men there picking our grapes. They said Nolan told them to take the grapes and deliver them to him. I told the men to leave. One thing led to another.” Louis played with his hat and kept his head lowered.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Louis glanced at Graham. “Nothing that won’t heal.”

  “And the other men?”

  Louis’ face broke into a wide grin. “He was no match for me and our men. We stood together. We made them leave and wouldn’t let them take any of the grapes.”

  “Isabella, wine. Our man here needs Maurice’s liquid courage.” Graham gave Louis his attention. “You did well. You will have Charlotte’s thanks for protecting her holdings like your own. You have my thanks as well.”

  Louis looked up at Isabella as she handed him a goblet. He drank thirstily.

  “We brought the grapes to the winery. The men are pressing them now. There are many more that need to be picked. They must all be harvested immediately, before they become worthless.”

  “Worthless?” Graham looked at Isabella. His eyes telling her, See, I don’t know a damn thing.

  “Go past their peak. Lose their sweetness,” she said.

  “How long will it take to harvest them?” Graham asked. He was not about to give Nolan a victory. He would fight and get every grape picked in time.

  “If we had more men we could bring in the harvest in five days.”

  “How much can you and the men harvest?”

  “It’s not a quick process. You need to handle the cluster of grapes with care. With twenty-five acres, we could probably harvest one-third of the vineyard. If we push a bit harder, perhaps one-half.”

  “What will happen with the rest of the crop?”

  “After today I suspect Nolan and his men will try to strip the vines bare. They will not care how they pick the grapes. They won’t care about protecting the vines. I suspect he’ll sell the grapes and say he knows the secret blend.”

  “Not with our grapes.” Graham deep in thought sat back. He slapped his hand on the desk and straightened his shoulders.

  “You mentioned that the lower field had the better grapes. Shouldn’t they, the ones that create our signature blend, be harvested first? Do you both agree?”

  Louis shook his head. “I would, but they can last a little longer. It’s the other grapes in the larger fields that must be picked, or we won’t have a base wine.”

  He looked at Isabella who stood by the door. She nodded her agreement.

  “Good. Louis, organize the men as soon as possible. Make sure the winery is secured. I’ll go speak to Olivier and see if I can get more people.”

  “Do you expect any problems?” Louis asked.

  “I don’t think Nolan is going to leave without making trouble. He is a vengeful type of person and will want to destroy Labatrelle.”

  “I’ll speak to the men and make sure the winery is secure,” Louis got to his feet and put down the empty goblet. “I don’t think Nolan will come during the day. We’ll get as much done as possible. We’ll protect the vineyard at night. If there isn’t anything else I’ll go gather the men.”

  Graham went with him to the door. “You have my thanks.”

  “No thanks are needed.” Louis left. But Isabella blocked Graham’s way when he tried to leave.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “The guild hall.” He looked at her for several heartbeats.

  “I need to go to Châlons as well. I can meet you at the guild hall later.”

  They made their way through the vineyard toward the river.

  “You’re very quiet,” Isabella said.

  “I can understand Nolan’s greed. I cannot see why he wants to ruin the winery. The winery’s loss is his as well. There must be something else we are not seeing. I haven’t the time to dwell on that. Our biggest problem is finding pickers.”

  “That won’t be easy. Everyone is working.”

  She was right. He was willing to pay them a good wage and even a bonus if they got the grapes harvested and pressed.

  “I’m hoping Olivier can help us.”

  They crossed the river. He went on to the guild hall while Isabella went on her way.

  He had to wait several minutes until Olivier was free. At last, he entered his office.

  “You have my thanks for waiting. I was going to visit you at the winery today.” Olivier’s cordial expression faded, replaced with concern. “What is it?”

  “I’m here to tell you that the Labatrelle Winery decided to sever all ties with Nolan LaBarge.”

  Olivier’s concern melted into a tight-lipped smile.

  Graham’s pride concealed his inner confusion. His action did not surprise Olivier.

  “Tell me what happened,” the guild master asked.

  “Nolan harvested his grapes and sold them back to the winery. In addition, he told me that after Maurice’s death, Miles agreed to give him a bigger share of the business.”

  “His grapes? That’s interesting.” Olivier said. “His grapes would imply that he owned the winery, or a part of it.”

  “He is a partner,” Graham said. “You told me yourself.”

  “The agreement between LaBarge and Cantrelle had nothing to do with the winery or its land. Maurice gave LaBarge a percentage of the profits. The land remained with Maurice. What’s this about a bigger share?” Olivier’s voice was low and confident.

  “Nolan feels he does most of the work and should get most of the money. The new agreement was completed on a handshake.” Fury almost choked Graham. “I’m wondering if the winery’s financial problem is Nolan’s doing.”

  “Maras Gershon is the best person to confirm how much Nolan took from the winery account. Tell him I suggested you speak to him.”

  “I planned on seeing him when I left here. Before I go, you said you were coming to see me?” Graham asked.

  “Yes. What you told me explains some of what I overheard. Felix was at the tavern last night. The man doesn’t like you. He was spouting off that the winery’s days are numbered. Nolan’s delayed harvesting the grapes to sabotage this year’s wine.”

  Graham ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t deal with traitors at the moment. Now I need workers to harvest our grapes.”

  “We can reach out to the southern district. Those vineyards finished their harvest. They may be able to help.”

  “At what cost?” Graham asked.

  “A heavy one, but I will negotiate with them for a fair price. You must speak to Monsieur Gershon. He handles the money for the winery. There may be funds you can use. And ask the local pickers. They may be willing to return. While you do that, I will speak to the guild masters in the neighboring districts. I’ll have them send the men to you at the winery.”

  “I appreciate this.” Graham stood. Olivier walked him to the door.

  “The guild will help you financially if needed. But I cannot favor one grower over another.”

  “Of course.” That meant money. Nolan was too sure of himself. He had an uncomfortable feeling, and hoped he was wrong.

  Graham hurried along until he came to a small building at the end of the lane and knocked on the door.

  “Can I help you?” Graham was met by an older woman.

  “My name is
Graham Eden.”

  The woman’s face lit up. She swung the door open wide. “The earl’s brother. Come in, come in.”

  “Monsieur Olivier suggested I speak with Monsieur Gershon.” He knew the Gershons by reputation. They were a husband and wife who had lived in Châlons all their lives. Every month Miles and Charlotte sent Isabella a note that she brought here. Gershon exchanged the note for her money. It was a simple process.

  The door to the next room opened. A tall, slender man with long, gray hair stood in the doorway.

  “Maras, this is Graham Eden. Miles sent word that he would visit with you.”

  “Graham. Come in.” Gershon led him into his office. “How can I help you?”

  “I’m in Châlons representing Lord and Lady Eden.” Graham opened his satchel. He fished out the correspondence from Miles. Next to it was the scrap of parchment with Isabella’s name. He took out the message and, as an afterthought, the scrap of parchment.

  “Please,” Gershon gestured to the seat in front of his desk.

  Graham made himself as comfortable as possible in a stiff wooden chair.

  “I’d like to go over the winery accounts. I anticipate a large expense and need to know the status.” He toyed with the parchment fragment. “I also hope you can help me with this.”

  Gershon took the offered parchment and examined it.

  “Interesting.” He studied the bookcase behind him and pulled out several ledgers.

  “Esther. Bring some ale.” Gershon called out. “Make yourself comfortable, Graham. This is going to take a while.”

  Several hours later Graham was back at Olivier’s office.

  “Nolan was very devious,” Graham said as he read through an agreement Olivier drew up. “We went through the receipts he produced. The winery account is as dry as red claret.”

  “It will be hard work,” Olivier said, as Graham signed the agreement, “but with the men from the southern district you should be able to harvest the grapes in five days.”

  Olivier dusted the ink and blew it off.

  “You have my thanks. When should we expect the men?” Graham was committed to his decision. His muscles flexed as anger rippled off him in waves. He wanted to go after the thief and… he took a deep breath. Being a berserker now would not get the grapes harvested. He put his energy to better use.

 

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