‘Instead, you studied philosophy and literature,’ he guessed.
‘Languages, too. I cajoled Julian into letting me share his tutor. Boys are always taught so many more interesting subjects than girls! With Mama ill much of the time, I did learn to run a household, though I’m hopeless at needlework or sketching. Robbie didn’t care about things like that. He thought it splendid that I could climb trees and shoot straight and catch more fish than he did.’ Her smile softened at the memory. ‘When he came back from university, so handsome and serious and yet still so dear a friend, I’d put up my hair and let down my skirts. Falling in love came as naturally as breathing. Despite my interest in politics, after the Season my great-aunt Lilly insisted I have, I expected to marry him and spend the rest of my life at Raven’s Cliff, only a few miles from where I was born. But then came the carriage accident.’
‘His death devastated you.’
Even after so many years, her throat closed and tears threatened. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, unable to say more. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest, hugging her close in wordless sympathy.
Releasing her a moment later, he said, ‘Then I’m mistaken in thinking I’d heard you’d been engaged again, several years ago?’
Sir Francis Mowbrey was a topic almost as unpleasant as Robbie’s death, and one, despite their growing friendship, she had no intention of discussing. ‘Yes, briefly. We decided we should not suit. Have you never been back to your father’s estate since you left with your mother as a child?’
‘No, nor have I any wish to see my father. If he is my father. The way my half-brother tells it, I’m the brat of a younger son who died obscurely in a battle half a world away.’
‘But you were born within the confines of marriage, which makes you the earl’s heir, regardless of the feelings between you. Knowing you will eventually inherit, surely at some point he will summon you and begin to acquaint you with the duties you will one day have to take over.’
Giles shrugged, his gaze hardening again. ‘I make no such assumption.’
‘Does your father manage Abbotsweal himself? Or does he use an agent?’
‘As I haven’t been there since I was too young to notice such a thing, I have no idea.’
She probably shouldn’t press the point, but she felt so strongly, she couldn’t help herself. ‘But you need to have an idea—more than an idea. You need to know the land and the people who work it, intimately! Your Radicals talk about reforming government, giving every man his say. Perhaps you will go as far as the French, confiscate the land people like my father have managed for centuries and parcel it out to tenants, or anyone greedy enough to hold out their hand. But for now, the health of the land and the well-being of those who live on it depend on the man who owns it—the man who bears the title. He likely serves as magistrate for the county, director of the parish poor house, and supports the livings of the pastors who minister to its people. Directs which fields will be planted with what crops, provides updated tools to farm the land, keeps his tenants’ cottages in repair, sees to the care of their elderly and to those who are sick or in need. Would you know which curate to give which living on your father’s land? Who to appoint as judge? Who to sit on the poorhouse committee?’
‘Of course not,’ he replied, impatience and irritation clearly written on his face.
Since he was already angry, she might as well finish. ‘I know it’s not my place to harangue you about this, but only think, Giles! When your father—when the earl—dies, and Parliament sends you the writ of summons to the Lords, you can ignore it. Refuse to serve. Never visit the estate. But then the people there will have no voice. You are responsible for them, even more so than for the people who voted you to represent them in the Commons. They can elect someone else, should they be unhappy with your service. The villagers and tenants and farmers and householders of Abbotsweal cannot. Would you leave them at the mercy of some hireling, or even worse, with no oversight at all?’
Making no answer, he pushed away and sat glaring at her, arms folded.
‘Very well, I’m done. I imagine you are now quite impatient to get on your way,’ she added ruefully.
Still silent, he stood, adjusted his clothing, and turned to stride out. At the doorway, he halted. ‘You really are brave, you know. Few of my friends dare speak of my mother, and none of them—no one—has the audacity to take me to task about fulfilling my “duty”.’
‘It needed to be said, little as you wished to hear it.’ She gave him a gallows grin. ‘And I didn’t think you’d strike a lady. In truth, though, you should get to know the people and the land. Do not make all those who depend upon Abbotsweal suffer for the enmity between yourself and the earl. Please, Giles, at least consider it.’
He stared at her for a long moment, his face grim and shuttered. And then, most unexpectedly, he threw back his head and laughed. ‘You don’t happen to know a tradesman named “Angleton” from the town of Romesley, do you?’
Relieved that he no longer seemed so angry, she said, ‘I don’t believe so. Should I?’
‘If I didn’t know better, I would swear you coached him up and sent him to my rooms yesterday. Apparently delegated by the town and county that chose not to re-elect George, he called on me to urge that I visit Abbotsweal and become acquainted with its people. As you have just done.’
‘How wonderful that they are eager to meet you!’ she cried. Then, reminding herself that he was the one who had to become convinced such a visit represented a priceless opportunity, she damped down her enthusiasm. ‘Will you?’ she asked quietly.
To her dismay, his expression hardened again. ‘I don’t know. As I told him, I will...consider it.’
With that, he walked out the door.
With a sigh, Maggie watched him go. Would he come back again, or had her plain speaking alienated him for good? Something twisted in her chest at the idea that he might never visit her at Upper Brook Street again, should the pleasures of intimacy not be sufficient to overcome the anger she’d aroused by badgering him about his duty.
But if there could not be an honest exchange of opinion between them, nothing more than a temporary lust would be possible anyway.
She drew herself up short at the direction that thought was headed. There wasn’t supposed to be anything more between them beyond a temporary lust—and, if she were wise and lucky, a lasting friendship.
Still, what kind of friend would she be, if, without a word of caution, she let him continue down a path that seemed so clearly to her to be one of disaster for him and those who would depend on him?
Not her father’s daughter, who’d been raised to love and care for the land and its people.
Sighing again, Maggie straightened her habit and prepared to return to Cavendish Square. Though the very thought of not seeing Giles again sliced like a knife to the bone, she couldn’t regret forcing him to listen to her views. She only hoped he would honour his word, and consider them.
* * *
A disgruntled Giles returned to his rooms at Albany to change and ready himself for Parliament, glad that Davie had already departed for the committee rooms. He couldn’t believe, after opening himself up to discuss his memories of his mother—something he did very rarely—Maggie had blindsided him with her insistence that he think more carefully about his eventual inheritance.
After avoiding, as a rule, thinking about the earldom at all, to be harangued about it twice in the space of two days seemed incredible.
He could still remember the confusion he’d felt, when a woman he’d never met invaded their cottage to demand that his mother let her take him away to school. The hurt and sense of betrayal when his mother, instead of laughing in the woman’s face, had thanked her—and turned him over without even a token protest. The shock and disbelief of learning during their travel to Eton that, not onl
y did he have a father he didn’t remember, the man was still living and was wealthier and more prominent than he could imagine. The soul-deep anger that smouldered still over how that father had spurned and humiliated his wife and abandoned his son.
The vastness of his shame and guilt at discovering he’d been responsible for his mother’s banishment and anguish.
He felt an almost violent aversion to accepting anything that came from the earl, who had chosen to do nothing to assist him or his mother during the poverty of his childhood, or at any time since as he grew to manhood. Somehow, it seemed a travesty to be forced to accept a largesse that would never be offered, if the law didn’t require it.
And so, all these years, he’d put the succession and what it would mean for him out of mind. Distancing himself from the society in which his father moved, despite his uncle’s and Davie’s increasingly frequent hints that he needed to become familiar with the world and the duties that would eventually be his. Stubbornly holding himself apart from his heritage, ignorant of the scope and range of responsibilities that would fall to him sooner or later, when the earl died.
As they both grew older, that hour would come sooner rather than later.
Much as he hated to admit it, Maggie was right; it probably was time for him face up to the future he could not avoid.
Mr Angleton’s invitation provided an excellent opportunity to begin.
As he shrugged on his coat, Giles thought ruefully that, much as he’d castigated George for being spoiled and self-absorbed, on this matter, he’d been just as immature. He’d excused himself for ignoring the problem, citing the important national issues in Parliament that demanded his immediate attention, while this ‘other matter’ was distant enough to be put off. But in reality, he’d been metaphorically sucking his thumb in the corner like a resentful child, refusing to prepare for his future out of spite for the father who’d rejected him.
The realisation was sobering, and he didn’t much like the picture it painted of him.
Then he smiled, recalling Maggie’s passionate conviction as she championed the cause of the tenants and villagers. Ignoring every warning sign that normally silenced Davie or anyone else who dared to mention forbidden topics, she’d forged ahead in the teeth of his angry resistance. So convinced that he must recognise the truth of what she said, and so sure that he would do what was right, once he did.
Do not make all those who depend upon Abbotsweal suffer for the enmity between yourself and the earl. If he did not take up the invitation from the Romesly electors and intervene to ally himself with these people, would he be doing just that?
You are responsible for them... But that wasn’t quite fair. He hadn’t asked the Romesly voters not to support George. Though, he admitted with a sigh, given an alternative, how could anyone of sense not have voted George out of office? Still, it had taken courage for the electors to reject the choice of the most powerful man in the county.
Encouraged by the principles he’d avowed over his years in Parliament, the electors had counted on him to stand by them when they did so. How could he let them down?
How could he force himself to return to the land from which he and his mother had been evicted all those years ago? Where the father he wouldn’t even recognise still lived?
Conflicted, and irritated by his indecision, he threw on his greatcoat and prepared to join his friends in the committee room. Mr Angleton had told him he’d be in London for some time; Giles didn’t need to make a final decision now.
But the spectre of becoming Earl of Telbridge seemed to loom much closer.
* * *
Early that evening, throwing down his pen in disgust, Giles rose from the table in the committee room. He’d had difficulty concentrating all day, the questions about the future raised by Maggie and the elector from Romesly affecting his ability to hammer out policy in the present.
‘I’ve had enough for today,’ he told Davie, who’d gazed over at him as he stood up, a question in his eyes. ‘Let’s begin again tomorrow.’
‘Early tomorrow?’ Ben asked, giving him a pointed look.
To his annoyance, Giles felt his face redden. ‘Early enough.’
‘Shall I save a place for you at the Quill and Gavel?’ Davie asked.
‘Yes, I’ve some matters to attend to, but I’ll meet you there later for supper.’
‘Perhaps I can help you work out that point of law.’
Giles knew Davie meant far more than the minutiae of the language for the Reform Bill. Maybe it was time to confide in his friend. ‘Perhaps. I’ll see you later.’
Having considered and rejected and reconsidered the idea several times over the course of the afternoon, Giles ordered a hackney and set out for Cavendish Square. His friends knew all about Parliament, crafting laws and getting out the vote. But none of them knew anything about managing an estate.
He knew only one person who did. And if he intended to begin preparing for the responsibilities that would inevitably become his, he at least needed to know what to look for when he accepted Mr Angleton’s offer to visit Romesly.
Which, he realised, some time over the course of the day, he’d decided to do.
Fortunately, since he wasn’t exactly sure how he would have explained the reason for his call to Lord Witlow, the butler informed him that Lady Margaret was at home. Leading Giles into another elegantly appointed room done in the Adams style, all classical pilasters and pale plaster, the butler went off to commune with his mistress.
Giles found himself pacing impatiently, though had little doubt that, once informed of the identity of the caller, curiosity alone would prompt Maggie to receive him.
As he expected, after only a brief wait, the butler ushered her in. Just the sight of her, her auburn hair glowing in the candlelight above a green gown that accented her eyes and flattered her slender figure, warmed his heart and smoothed the hard edges off his urgency.
‘Mr Hadley, what a pleasant surprise!’ she said, giving him her hand. ‘Will you take some refreshment?’
‘That would be much appreciated.’
‘Please, do be seated, and tell me how I may assist you. Rains, will you bring wine?’
As soon as the butler exited, he gave her hand a lingering kiss. ‘How lovely you look tonight! I find myself wishing we were at Upper Brook Street.’
‘You look quite delicious yourself,’ she replied, smiling at him before giving her lips a naughty lick that made him want to consign his serious errand to perdition and carry her off where they might indulge in activities not prudent to perform in Cavendish Square.
‘But alas,’ she continued, putting a halt to his lascivious imagining, ‘I know you wouldn’t come to Cavendish Square with trysting in mind.’ The sparkle faded from her eyes and a look of distress creased her brow. ‘Particularly if you are still so angry about my outspokenness this morning that you intend to...terminate our arrangement.’
‘Terminate it!’ he cried, astounded that she might imagine that to be the reason for his visit here. ‘Of course not! How could you even think that?’
‘You were quite angry when you left. I did insist on meddling in what is none of my business.’
He’d spent so much of the day pondering what to do, he’d completely forgotten that he had, in fact, initially been irritated by her persistence. ‘I’m not angry any more. Although what we were discussing is the reason for my visit tonight.’
Understanding immediately what he meant, she said, ‘You’ve come to a decision, then. Are you going to accept Mr Angleton’s offer?’
‘I think I must. As you pointed out so persuasively, whether I like it or not, the earldom will one day be mine, and with it, the responsibility for managing the land and caring for its people. The responsibility is vast, and so is my ignorance. I cannot afford too long a visit to Abbotsweal now,
when I need to help prepare the bill for its first reading, but even a short trip could begin to chip away at that mountain of ignorance.’
‘I’m so pleased!’ she exclaimed, her enthusiasm making him feel even better about the decision. ‘I knew, if you could just be brought to think rationally about it, you would embrace the task. You need only the proper training to become an effective guardian and advocate for Abbotsweal.’
‘I certainly need that. In fact, I was hoping that you and your father might offer me some suggestions about what to look for and ask about when I visit Romesly, so I might take the fullest advantage of the trip.’
‘I’m sure Papa would be happy to! Let me have Rains see if he can join us.’
After sending the butler off in pursuit of her father, she looked at him thoughtfully. ‘We can both make suggestions for what you might explore during your visit. But if you’d like my opinion...’
‘On a matter about which you feel so strongly,’ he said with a grin, ‘I expect I shall have it, whether I want it or not.’
‘How very unhandsome—if, alas, also true!’ she replied with a laugh. ‘It occurred to me that, although you should visit the village and speak with the farmers, those enquiries alone will not give you an accurate picture of an earl’s job, which is the co-ordination and management of a rather vast enterprise. The only way to learn about that task is to watch someone performing it. Do you think you could spare a few days to visit Huntsford? My brother Julian is an excellent manager, trained since childhood for the task. I know he would be happy to take you around the estate and show you the duties involved in running it.’
‘Would you escort me to Huntsford?’ he asked, surprising himself with the question.
Initially looking startled, she quickly recovered. ‘If you wish me to.’
The prospect of spending unhurried time with her, seeing the world that had moulded her into the fascinating creature she’d become, the world he must one day inhabit, sent a thrill of anticipation through him.
Forbidden Nights with the Viscount Page 15
