The weight settled on his shoulders again, yet now Thomas felt more able to bare it. “We must have his permission. I fear he will never give it willingly.”
His father launched another unexpected question at him. “Does Miss Christine love you, Tom? I would not see you marry someone who is only fond of you.”
Thomas considered the question, allowing his mind to linger on the memories built at the side of the brook. Her laugh, her smile, her touch. Even the way in which she leaned into him when she thought he might kiss her. Their waltz.
He answered his father honestly. “I do not know for certain, as she has never told me of her heart. But I have every reason to hope she returns my regard.”
“Then you must speak to Miss Christine without delay. Once you know her thoughts on the matter, we can find a way to appease her father.” Harold sighed deeply and looked toward the desk of paperwork. “We are not in the best position to elevate Christine Devon or her father in society, but we are a respected family. Perhaps it will be enough.” The elder Gilbert did not sound overly hopeful, but Thomas did not allow himself to dwell on that.
“I will go call on Christine now,” Thomas stated, already moving to the door. “Wish me well.”
“With all my heart, Tom,” his father said as he disappeared out the door.
His heart full, his hopes high, Thomas called out instructions for the preparation of his horse. He would not delay another moment in speaking to Christine. His hopes for saving her from unhappiness combined with his recognition of his love for her gave him no room for doubt.
He hoped his suit would be enough for her. That he would be enough for her.
∞∞∞
Thomas traveled to the Devon home at a breakneck speed, grateful for a mount that could easily match the frenzied pace of his thoughts. Yet he knew to feel confident at this point would not be advisable. He needed to speak to Christine to ascertain whether or not his suit would be welcome and then he would ask Devon for permission to court and marry his daughter. The man could not act heartlessly if he knew that Thomas cared for her.
When Thomas asked the footman at the door for Miss Christine, he was shown into Devon’s office. He knew at once this was not where he should be, and Devon’s disinterested greeting made his heart sink.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Gilbert?” Devon asked after rising from his seat behind the desk.
“I hoped to see your daughter, Miss Christine,” Thomas informed him, trying to keep a neutral tone.
“All my daughters’ visitors must see me first.” Devon did not sit and did not offer for Thomas to do so. He meant to keep the interview short. “It is my way of protecting them. I would not allow them to keep low company, after all.” The level of control this man exerted on his children struck Thomas as unusual, not merely overprotective.
“I understand,” Thomas said slowly, caution creeping into his manner. “May I see her now?”
Devon regarded him silently for several long moments. “I think not. It has come to my attention that you and my daughter have entered into some sort of agreement regarding her horses. An agreement that I should have been consulted about, prior to the removal of her stallions. Those are very expensive animals you are currently housing.”
It struck Thomas in that moment how Christine refrained from mentioning her father’s opinion of her use of the animals, except to clarify that they were legally her property.
“Yes. Miss Christine has agreed to take part in my horse farm. I hope to give her a return on her investment, in time,” Thomas said slowly, using the business term that Christine so often applied to herself when she spoke of her father.
“A foolish investment.” Devon waived his hand dismissively. “And one which should have been made through me or my man of business. Not my daughter.”
Thomas refused to be cowed. “I apologize, sir. Your daughter gave me every reason to believe she was within her rights to arrange for the removal of her animals to my property.”
Devon sat without allowing Thomas to do the same, a blatant and rude slight. “Legally. However, the world of business is best left to men. I would never have countenanced the free use of those animals without some deposit or promissory note from you for their time. What are the arrangements behind the deal? What does Christine get from you having her stallions?” Devon leaned forward, his eyes piercing and cold, taking Thomas’s measure without blinking.
The ground on which Thomas stood he knew to be treacherous.
“As I said, my use of the horses is an investment. Should the foals sired by the stallions sell well, I hope to give your daughter a percentage of the profits.” Although they never discussed as much, he wanted to do more to show his gratitude for her help.
Devon smirked. “It sounds like a risky venture, given your family’s current financial state.”
Thomas’s hopes sunk more and more drastically by the second. “I have spent many years studying horses and their markets. I feel my success is a certainty.”
“You feel that way, do you? But all the risk is being taken by my daughter. Foolish girl.” Devon sighed deeply and continued to sort through the papers on his desk, no longer granting Thomas his full attention. “Is that why you wished to speak to her? To talk of your supposed business?” His disinterest in the idea could not be made clearer.
Thomas did his best to remain calm and collected, though he bristled at the man’s condescension. “No. I came on a more personal matter. I wished to determine your daughter’s interest in courtship. Should she indicate she finds it favorable, I would then apply to you for permission.”
Devon paused in his movement and looked up, slowly, the calculating look back in his eyes. His expression remained neutral, his posture relaxed. “Regardless of her preferences, if you are the one applying to court her, my answer is no.”
Thomas straightened, his hands balling into fists at his side. “No? Just like that?” He fought to control his tone, to refrain from shouting.
“Exactly.”
Thomas unclenched his jaw long enough to ask, “On what grounds am I to be denied?”
Devon sighed deeply and sat back in his chair. At his ease, fingers steepled before him, he spoke calmly. “On the grounds that you are far inferior to the type of person I hope to secure her to. You have no title, no social standing worth speaking of, and every land owner in the vicinity is aware of the mismanagement of your family’s small estate. What would I have to gain marrying her off to the likes of you?” Now Devon’s smile curled his lips up in a manner that looked far too sly for a man speaking of his child’s future. “I am about to spend a small fortune launching her into society. I intend to make back every farthing. Christine is meant for a better circle than you could hope to give her.”
Thomas stood stock still, highly aware of how little power he held in this situation. He would not even be permitted an audience with Christine to learn if she regarded him as more than a friend. He could not tell her his feelings. Devon would not give permission for them to wed, his ambition too great for the connections his daughter could bring him.
Thomas jerked his chin down in a brief nod. “Then I have nothing more to say to you, Mr. Devon. Goodbye.”
The man had the gall to look pleased. “Goodbye, Mr. Gilbert.”
Thomas ignored the footman outside the study and went straight to the door on his own. He wished to fly through the house calling her name, but he would not make a spectacle of himself or put her in the difficult position of watching him being thrown out by her father.
He mounted his horse and was soon riding back the way he had come, angry and hurt, all too aware that, while he viewed Devon’s reasons for keeping them apart as cold and heartless, they were valid. But what could he do? If he knew Christine’s true feelings on the matter, he might find a better way to act, even if it meant taking her to Scotland to elope.
He sighed and slowed his mount when his home came into view. His best course of action at present would
be to take his parents more fully into his confidence. Together, the three of them might come up with a plan.
He would not give up, though Devon gave him a thorough set down.
He loved Christine. He was not prepared to let her go to London without telling her so.
Chapter Twenty-One
December 25, 1811
Thomas arrived at the Earl of Annesbury’s residence before the ball, a sheaf of papers tucked under his arm. The earl, Lord Calvert, wished to discuss Thomas’s proposal of an investment in his horse farm. Although Thomas’s mind did not cease to turn over the situation with Christine, he knew he must continue to labor for his dream. Thomas retained hope that speaking with Christine at the ball would be possible and he could at least determine where her heart lay.
The butler showed him to Lord Calvert’s study and the nobleman stood when he entered. “Ah, Gilbert. I am glad you made it. I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience of meeting on the same night as the ball.”
Thomas forced a smile and shook his head. “Not at all, my lord.”
“Call me Annesbury, or Calvert,” the other man said with a wave of his hand. “We practically grew up together, after all. I can clearly recall racing you across the village green during a fair or two.”
Thomas relaxed and shook hands with Calvert, a man not much older than himself, but with much more prestige and wealth. He was taller than Thomas, too, and looked the part of a nobleman with lighter hair and eyes. If he had been in love with Christine, Calvert could easily have had her.
He pulled his mind back to the task at hand. “Thank you for seeing me. I hope you will find this meeting a good use of your time. I have brought a fair number of things for you to look through, but I think you will be most interested in the pedigree charts.” Thomas took a sheet from the top of the stack and held it out to the earl.
“I have always thought this land fine enough, though not entirely suited to the farms enriching other parts of England.” Calvert sat down and offered Thomas a seat as he perused the document. After his eyes went down the whole page, he sucked in a deep breath. “This is most impressive. The Devon stables are providing the sires for your first crop of foals?”
“Yes, they are.” Many knew that the stallions in those stables were priceless, but none had ever gained the right to match mares to them. “And my mares are from the finest stables in Italy.”
“They are, and rare lines at that. How involved is Devon in this business?” Calvert looked up, his forehead wrinkled. “I have known the man for years. I do not do business with him by choice, I am afraid.”
At least Thomas could reassure him on that front. “The horses do not belong to Devon, but to his second daughter, Miss Christine. I negotiated with her for the rights to her stallions.” He could not help the twitch of his lips as he thought on those circumstances. “They have been in the paddocks with my mares for over a week, getting to know one another.”
The earl nodded and put the paper down. “What are your projected expenses? You will forgive me for saying this, Gilbert, but I am not unaware of your family’s current financial situation. I am assuming you will need a large investment to begin your work.”
Thomas nodded and handed the earl the next sheet of paper. “That is why I’ve sought you out, Calvert. I know you have an interest in hunters and I intend to produce a top line of them. It will take a few years and, at present, my resources are slim. Apart from the horses, there is little I can offer by way of collateral. My estimations are modest and the return I offer for the investment is generous.”
“Should you succeed it will be,” Calvert told him, going over the document carefully. “What does Miss Devon get for her part in starting your stables?”
Thomas raised his eyebrows and Calvert chuckled.
“I did not miss the smile her name conjured,” the earl admitted, raising one sandy eyebrow. “The young woman knows horses, they tell me, as well as her mother knew them. She must have driven a hard bargain, considering those stallions of hers have rarely ever been bred.”
Thomas reflected on his lessons with Christine, remembering how the suggestion disturbed him when first she proposed their arrangement, and he sighed. “It was a hard bargain, but it will not undercut your income in the slightest. Miss Christine did not ask for a monetary return.”
Calvert reached for the next sheet of paper, glancing briefly across the proposed improvements to the Gilbert stables before turning his attention back to Thomas. “I see a great deal of promise here, Gilbert. I have asked after your time in Italy, learned who you spent all your time with, and I must say that I am impressed. The fact that you enticed Miss Devon to invest her horses in the venture further reassures me that you know what you are about. I must go over the figures with my man of business, but I believe this would be a sound investment for me.”
Thomas’s hopes rose and some of the burden fell from his shoulders. “You would agree to the mares as collateral, should the venture fail?”
“They are valuable horses, and the foals they will produce will be more so, against good English stock.” The earl rose and extended his hand. “Consider me a partner. I will invest what you ask the moment the papers are in order and signed.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Thomas grinned and firmly shook on the deal, amazed at how simple the matter had been, though he had known of Calvert’s reputation for quick business decisions. “I appreciate your faith in me and my animals.”
“As I said, I looked into you and I know you are a sound investment.” The earl gestured to the windows. “Would you mind stepping outside? We have a short time until the ball begins. I should like to show you my stables and get your opinion on a few matters.”
“Will that not upset your preparations for the ball?” Thomas asked, knowing how frenzied his household became when they prepared to entertain guests.
Calvert chuckled and shook his head. “Not at all. My mother does all the work. She lives for balls and parties and comes all the way from London to make sure I keep up tradition every Christmas.” He led the way through the house, only stopping to retrieve Thomas’s overcoat from the front hall.
They spent a quarter of an hour inspecting the earl’s prized hunters, the stables, the feed, and discussing improvements Calvert had implemented and whether Thomas might try the same. But try as he would to focus, Thomas’s mind kept going back to Christine. With the earl’s investment assured, he still would not be a man of great means or connections, but perhaps it would be good enough to approach Devon again.
“I can see your mind is already spinning ahead to the future of your stables,” Calvert said, bringing Thomas back to the present.
“Only a little.” Thomas glanced around them, taking in a deep breath, enjoying the warmth and scents of the stables. These were smells which never changed, whether he found himself in England or Italy. “I apologize for my distraction.”
“Not at all, not at all.” Calvert reached out and gave Thomas a friendly slap on the shoulder. “You have a great many plans to make, especially if you are to marry Miss Christine Devon.”
Thomas jerked completely out of his thoughts and froze on the spot, turning wide eyes to the earl. “What?” he gasped out. “How did you know—no one knows.”
Calvert did not smile, yet good humor glittered in his eyes. “I was in love once. I know the look a man gets when he is thinking of his lady. I made a calculated guess, based on our conversation, and you confirmed it. Congratulations. Do you have a wedding date at present?”
Thomas continued to gape for a moment before he shook his head. “No, Calvert. I am afraid that there is no understanding at present between myself and Miss Christine.”
The earl raised an eyebrow. “The loan of her horses was not part of that understanding?”
“No.” Thomas hesitated, wondering what he ought to tell this man he barely knew. The earl held Thomas’s future in his hands and could yet withdraw his support if he did not understand that all had b
een arranged in an honorable manner.
“Miss Christine’s horses are part of a private arrangement between ourselves, and I have come to care for her a great deal since my return from Italy. Nothing would please me more than to take her as my wife. However, circumstances do not at present allow me to approach her with an offer of marriage.”
The earl’s curiosity was replaced with sudden understanding. “Ah. Miss Devon is the one about to make her debut into London society. I have heard of her father’s hopes for her future. I must surmise that it is he who stands in the way of your offer?” The taller gentleman shook his head, lips pursed. “How unfortunate.”
Thomas relaxed and reached up to run a hand through his hair, not caring if he ruined it before the ball. “Very. But please do not trouble yourself thinking on it.”
“I apologize for prying, Gilbert. As I said, I loved a young woman once very deeply. I cannot imagine what I would have done had her hand been denied me.” His expression took on a more wistful look and he turned away, eyes toward the stable doors. “I lost my wife too soon. I am forever grateful for the time we had together. I would not wish such loss on anyone.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Thomas nodded and took a step toward the exit. “Should we go inside, Calvert, before we begin to smell of horse?”
“I suppose most people do not find such a scent pleasant in the ballroom.” Calvert led the way out, turning the conversation back to horses, and Thomas kept his thoughts to himself.
∞∞∞
Christine sat next to Julia in the carriage, warm bricks at her feet, staring out the window at the earl’s beautiful estate. Torches lit his drive as it was already dark, and carriages grander than the Devon equipage lined the drive ahead of them. Their father sat across from them, in the forward-facing seat.
What should have been the most exciting night of her year only filled her with anxiety and sorrow. Tonight would be her last chance to see Thomas before leaving for London to experience a season she no longer found any pleasure anticipating. After their last meeting, she hadn’t heard a single word from him, which she expected. An unmarried woman could never exchange letters with a gentleman; she did not even dare to drop him a note to ask after her horses.
The Social Tutor Page 19
