Page 2 of The Heir and Spare
His father had left him that much, for which he was grateful. He and whomever he chose to marry would be doing well indeed.
But it pained him to lose Pemberley. And he felt that he certainly would within a generation after Fitz took over the helm.
He raised his head and closed the ledger, slowly, carefully, and then placed it back in the drawer near his right thigh. He might lose PemberleyPemberley, but his own estate would be in good stead. That much he could control.
And he’d leave Pemberley in the best possible place for when his brother took the helm.
His servant Thomas entered the room with a tray. “You have some correspondence.” He approached. “And Mrs. Godley would like to know if you are ready for your repast?”
It was time he left his office. He needed air and sunshine and a good hard ride on Samson his old faithful stallion. He’d purchased a few more horses to add to his stable, knowing Samson could not live forever. But he would never tire of his old friend of a horse as long as he could still ride. “I think I’d like to take my tea on the back veranda.”
“Very good sir.” He bowed and waited while Arthur took the letters from his tray.
He sorted them by business and social engagements. Usually his pile was filled with business and his brother’s social, but there were a few notable invitations directed solely to him.
He raised his eyebrows. One particular was odd in every way. He was invited to a house party, in the general vicinity of Netherfield. From Lord Shackley? A man no one ever saw. A man who was most respected as an old relic of an earlier era. He’d been a close friend of the Darcys’ father. But no one hadseen him in years. An eccentric older noble had planned a house party? And for whatever reason, he’d chosen to invite Arthur to his gathering? He almost tossed it aside to be turned down by his steward, but something made him hesitate. He reached for it again, studying the letters as if they would help him solve the puzzle. Perhaps Fitz would like to attend. Surely Lord Shackley wouldn’t care which twin supported his efforts. Some loyalty to his father prevented Arthur from dismissing the invitation outright. Yes, this was something he’d ask Fitz to attend, to prove his efforts at wife finding. Who knew but there would be someone there to catch his brother’s eye.
He locked his office before heading out to the veranda. Cook had made his favorite pies. He smiled. Bless the woman. They all worked a little better, a little harder when he was home. And he appreciated them. They were like family. He could hardly look at Cook without thinking of his mother poring over recipes with her as they planned meals for dinners and parties. The cozy sensations that filled him at that thought had him pondering again on the house party. Perhaps there would be a woman there for him? There had to be a reason he’d been invited instead of his brother. Surely there was something unique for him? The area was more country. Close enough to London to draw some of that crowd naturally, but perhaps some from the local countryside as well. Someone unknown by others, a gem in the wilds of the British country? He’d love someone not taught in the wiles of man-seeking, honestly, or someone also not particularly proficient in gossip either. Was this house party a place to find such a woman? There was no reason why he would be on Lord Shackley’s mind. He’d not been near him or anything he involved himself in for many years.
And yet, here he was being invited.
Did he believe in fate? Not usually. But in this case, he wondered. And the enticing question ofwhat ifhad snagged hiscuriosity and was not letting go. He lifted a cup to his mouth and savored tea made to his precise preference. But not made by his wife, made by his servant. It was time to find someone to fill his lonely days, to share his nights, to work side by side in the care of their estate, someone with whom he could build a legacy.
He dabbed his lips. The time had come for him to find such a woman. And he already knew she was not to be found in London. Perhaps this house party was just the thing.
Instead of asking his steward to handle it, he responded himself. He had two months to prepare. But come August, he would be attending Lord Shackley’s party.
Chapter 3
Elizabeth
Elizabeth and Jane walked through the back edges of their property where Elizabeth knew wild herbs and roots grew. Their baskets were only partly filled, but they hadn’t as yet come across the lavender.
Jane lifted a delicate lace flower from a bush and placed it in her basket. “We are so fortunate that the conditions are so favorable for many of these.”
“We really are. And of course that the past vicar taught us how to plant them.”
Elizabeth dug out the roots of a particularly useful herb. “We will need to plant more of this one if it’s the roots we need every time.”
“I think the leaves and flowers are also useful. But I think you’re correct. We must plant some more. They aren’t spreading like they could.” She pressed her lips together. “I think it might be the lack of sun. See those branches? They weren’t there when we originally began this plot of our wild garden.”
Lizzie nodded. “I see what you mean.”
“Let’s have Joshua come and trim those.” Jane seemed to be doing her mental calculations about all the branches she wouldask him to trim. Lizzie let her handle it. She was pleased they could work on this together and that she was so intrigued by the idea of them growing their own medicines. The vicar had been correct and his remedies worked. Particularly the one to quell their mother’s nerves. She was much more relaxed. And complained so infrequently of the flutterings and flittings of her heart that Lizzie almost forgot her constant need for smelling salts.
They moved toward the field. “But look! That lavender is beautiful.” They paused at the edge of the trees. Their lavender had definitely spread and now filled a rather large patch with a thick flowing wave of color. The sweet aroma tickled her nose and she breathed deeply. “And this must be Mother Nature’s trophy. It’s almost a shame to pick some.”
“This will certainly grow.” Jane ran her fingers over the tops of the flowers. “It will make a beautiful water.”
“And it’s supposed to be good for calming us as well as Mother you know, perhaps a sachet under our pillows?”
“Or Lydia’s pillow.” Jane laughed. “That girl could use some calming.”
“I think perhaps when the militia is not in town, she will go back to bemoaning her boredom.”
“We can only hope.” Jane clipped a stalk of lavender.
Once their baskets were full of all sorts of aromatic herbs and plants, they turned to walk back up the hill to the house.
