Page 38 of Deceiving an Earl
“Yes. I mean… No. I’m assuming that we could run out of money due to some calamity or such.” But his voice was wavering, and he didn’t seem so certain.
“So you think that the only way to lose your estate is through some…calamity? What sort of calamity?”
They rode in silence for a minute or so.
“If you’ve brought me out here to scare me, it’s not going to work,” Philip said with false bravado.
“I didn’t bring you out here to scare you.”
“We have money. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“It’s none of my business.”
That quieted him for a moment.
“Then why are we out here?”
“Because Mr. Potter needs your help.”
“Mr. Potter?” His brows scrunched together.
“The Potters have been pig farmers on your estate for generations. They are highly respected by everyone in the area, including your late father and grandfather. You should know this if you are the earl.”
Philip turned his face away but not before Oliver caught the tinge of pink touching his cheekbones.
“I knew that,” he said.
Oliver kept driving and let the silence continue. His mood was greatly improved at this point. He liked verbally fencing with young Philip, and the boy had definitely been put in his place.
“Why are we seeing Mr. Potter?” he finally asked after a few minutes.
“Potter’s eldest son broke his leg and can’t help his father. The sows are about to give birth, and Potter needs help until his son is healed.”
“Damnation! If you think I’m going to become a…a…pigfarmer, then you are mistaken. You can turn this curricle around and head back to London.” Philip had half risen from his seat, and Oliver feared he would jump out.
“He is your tenant. Highly respected, as I’ve said. And he needs help. It is your duty and obligation as the Earl of Fieldhurst to help him.”
“But not do it myself!” The boy was yelling, and Oliver was trying not to grin.
“Are you too good for such manual labor? Is this job too far beneath you?”
“Yes! I am theearl. Surely there is someone else to help Mr. Potter.”
“Who?”
“I… I don’t know. We’ll find someone.”
“And this someone? Where will you find him? Will you take him off his own farm? Pull him from his own job? And who will do that job?”
“This is ridiculous. You are just trying to prove a point, but I will not get dirty with the pigs.”
“I told you to wear old clothes.”
“This has nothing to do with clothes. This… This is…”
Oliver turned his face away to keep the boy from seeing his laughter. He was incensed. Furious. And scared. He did not want to be with the pigs, but that is precisely where he needed to be.
“I am certain that you have never slopped around with pigs,” Philip said between clenched teeth.
