Page 70 of My Best Friend's Earl
Silence fell between them. For a few moments, there was only the rattle of coach wheels, thunder of hooves, jingling horse harnesses, and his heart thumping steadily at her ear.
“I hate that you’ve had to make difficult decisions. But I’m intensely grateful that this Walter character is an arse.”
She laughed, and Oliver dipped his head for a lingering kiss.
Chapter Twenty-Five
If at first you don’t succeed, escalate the situation
Not only were there letters from two estates waiting when he returned home, but a notice from Gerard Bellmore, his solicitor. Althea’s deed and trust had been recorded and filed. Oliver couldn’t stop smiling.
Prince rubbed against his hand, insisting on more pets to make up for Oliver’s absence. One hand scratched the cat’s ears while the other dashed off a summons to Mr. Wellsley.
Roberts knocked on the study door. “Milord, Mr. Wellsley is here. He says the matter is urgent.”
“Perfect. Send him in.” Oliver slapped the lid of his silver inkwell closed, and it gave a satisfyingthwap. Standing, he stretched to loosen the aches from spending so long in a carriage. Other muscles he hadn’t known he possessed made themselves known, but the ways he and Constance had earned each twinge and pang left him feeling smug as hell.
Franklin Wellsley’s face was set in grim lines when he entered a moment later.
Oliver rounded his desk. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure what to do. I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.”
Oliver gestured toward the chairs and chaise near thefireplace. “Take a seat. We can figure it out together. I just finished writing you to ask for a meeting, so your timing is excellent.”
Mr. Wellsley’s shoulders relaxed. Giving his guest time to gather his thoughts, Oliver knelt by the fire and added another log, then poked at the embers until flames once again leapt merrily in the grate.
“Now. Tell me what’s happened.”
“Sir William and Lady Thompson secured a time at the church for next week. According to gossip, Miss Braithmore cried off from Lord Landry. Althea is desperate. I’m hoping you have news about your idea.”
Oliver grimaced. A week? Finalizing those papers had happened at the last minute. They didn’t have long to figure out how exactly he and Althea would miss that wedding date. “Then it’s best we decide on our next steps. A desperate Althea could be ruinous.”
Mr. Wellsley visibly gulped. “Interesting word choice. She’s determined to ruin herself publicly and force her father to let us wed.”
“Which leaves her bearing the brunt of the scandal. How do you feel about that idea?” Letting Althea seem like a jilt didn’t appeal to him.
“I love her. I’ll marry her under any circumstances. I worry that this throws too much mud on her. She might regret that later.” The younger man looked pained. “At the same time, so much of her anger stems from how she’s been controlled, with no choices.”
A glow grew in Oliver’s chest the longer he listened. Mr. Wellsley truly did love and respect Althea. “Everyone might assume you were forced to marry because of the scandal, rather than out of genuine affection.”
“We’d know the truth. That’s what matters.”
“All right. Before you two decide what you’ll do, there’s a second option. You’re familiar with the idea of a separate estate trust in marriage contracts?”
Mr. Wellsley nodded. “Of course. Pin money, or family wealth set aside for a woman’s children.”
“I convinced Sir William to deed Althea a tract of land he’d intended as part of her dowry. That land is now in a trust. I’m currently named as the trustee, but when she marries, her spouse becomes the trustee. The documents don’t specifically name her husband, so legally, it can be you. Everything is filed with the government and official. Sir William can’t take it back.”
Oliver returned to his desk and gathered the letter from the solicitor, his copy of the trust, a map of Birchwood Court’s surrounding area, and the engineering plans. Althea’s determination to cause chaos in his life seemed to have truly died, because each item was where he’d left it.
From now on, the title of Head Chaos Coordinator belonged to Constance. With a spring in his step, he brought the stack to Wellsley. “The land includes a river dividing my estate from the Thompsons’. I intended to turn the river into a canal.”
Unrolling the paper on the low table between them, Oliver pointed at various areas of interest on the map. “This orchard is large enough to produce goods for a family, with a decent leftover crop to sell at market. Or you could clear it and build an office or shelter for the canal workers. There’s space for a house here—nothing too grand, but a nice-size cottage. However, it’s on the Thompsons’ side of the river.” They exchanged a grimace. “A canal would connect our farmers and artisans with larger markets to the east and south.”
Wellsley leaned in and examined the papers. “I can’timagine how much building an undertaking of this size will cost.”
Oliver nodded. “With this year’s harvest looking so grim, the canal system is not an immediate solution. I’d like to partner with you both on this venture. Even still, we will need investors, and that could take years. In the meantime, I’m prepared to offer you a position working with a land steward at my property in Cornwall. You would have a salary, a cottage on the estate, and an escape from the scandal all this will cause. Also, Dorcas lives nearby.”
