Page 42 of The Secret Word
Since neither of them seemed to be able to maintain a conversation, Chris decided he had better take a hand. Some paintings of birds on the wall gave him an idea.
“We spent the week at my cousin Harry’s hunting lodge, my lord, as you may know. Neither Clem nor I have spent much time in the country—indeed, London has been home to both of us for much of our lives. Can you tell me, what is the bird that makes this sound?” He whistled one of the bird calls that had intrigued and mystified him and Clem during their walks.
It was the right question. Lord Crosby talked about birds until the tea tray arrived, while Clem poured the tea, and for at least ten minutes after that, with only the occasional question from Chris or Clem to keep him going.
He explained the habitats, the eating habits, and the differences between the great tit, the Eurasian blue tit, the coal tit, the long-tailed tit, and the yellow-breasted tit. He imitated each of their calls, and then did the same for a great array of finches.
He had begun on the thrushes when, at last, he pulled himself up. “My dear Lady Crosby would say I have forgotten myself, young people. I do love my birds, but I fear I have blathered on and on.”
“I was fascinated,” said Clem. “Chris and I argued for days about which bird produced the sound we heard so often during our stay, but we could never catch one singing where we could see it to identify it. I would not have guessed it was a thrush. They seem such modest birds.”
“They are… But there. I must not allow myself to continue, Clementine. If you are truly interested, my dear, you andChristopher must visit us at Barthornton in the summer, and I shall take you out and show you as many birds as I can.”
Clem’s face lit up. Chris guessed that a visit to Barthornton—was it a village or the name of a house?—was now part of their summer plans.
“I would like that,” she said.
“But I invited you here, Christopher, to tell you about your inheritance from my aunt, your mother’s mother. Michael mentioned the estate, I know. She was the last of her family, and the lands were not entailed, so though the title reverted to the crown, your grandmother inherited the estate just a few weeks after your mother died. It has been doing very well, and I have been investing the surplus income in your name for sixteen years. You are a wealthy young man.”
Chris tried not to let his jaw hit the floor. An inheritance, maybe. But wealth? He hadn’t expected it.
Had Billy? Is this why he’d assisted Chris all these years, and especially now?
Lord Crosby picked up some papers from the table beside him, shuffled them, and handed the top sheet to Clem. “There, my dear. Show that to your husband,” he said, sounding a little pleased and perhaps even amused.
“That” was a list of investments and their current value, with a total that made Clem blink and Chris’s heart skip a beat.
“Maidenstone Court,” the earl said next, handing over another sheet. It gave a description of the property—the house, the park, the woods, the home farm, the tenant farms, the acreage of each, the cottages, and shops in the village that the owner of the Court—that is to say, Chris—also owned.
“My goodness,” said Clem. She turned to Chris, her eyes wide as if asking if he’d been aware.
“I had no idea,” he said on an exhale. And then, “Where is Maidenstone Court?” The name of the village—Maidencraig Frampton—meant nothing to him.
“Three hours north-west of London,” said Lord Crosby. “The home farm is currently rented out. The Court and its dower house have been rented, but the tenants did not renew their lease this year. I’d heard your grandfather had returned, and I hoped you were with him, so I did not look for new tenants.”
They talked some more, since Chris and Clem both had further questions, and then Lord Crosby insisted on sending for Lady Crosby so she could welcome the newlyweds back to London. It was quite two hours after they arrived before they found themselves back out on the street again, Clem carrying a book of beautifully rendered bird paintings by an artist and ornithologist named Bewick that Lord Crosby had insisted on loaning to her.
“Clem,” said Chris, “we are rich.” He wanted to hear the words said out loud. He was not at all certain he believed them, but if Clem agreed, perhaps they would be true.
“We are,” Clem said. “If Father becomes a nuisance, we can tell him we do not need him. And even better, Chris. Just think. We were hoping to spend the house money Father promised on a house for our orphan school, and now we have a house. Only three hours away from London. And it is all ours!”
*
The trip tosee Maidenstone Court had to wait until Chris had put in the three days that he had promised to Father. Three days a week. “Do you have to go?” Clem asked. “We do not need the salary any more, and if Father cuts us off, we can manage without him.”
“I gave my word,” Chris said, and that was that. Clem valued Chris’s integrity. Truly she did. But she could not help but feel that Father did not deserve it.
When she said that to Chris, he smiled and said, “I expect he shall cut us off after he finds out about our inheritance, and if not then, after I tell him about our plans for the school. Meanwhile, I shall keep my word. I’m sorry if that does not please you.”
Clem sighed. “It pleases me that you are so reliable, Chris. I am just peeved that we have to wait to see the house. I do hope it is suitable for a school!”
“It must be,” Chris said. “The most recent tenant was a school for girls. It is in the folder of records Lord Crosby gave me.”
That made Clem even more anxious to view the property. However, she busied herself with ordering further furnishings for the townhouse and meeting with the Satterthwaite and Thurgood ladies.
At last, the day came for their excursion to Maidencraig Frampton and their estate. Chris had hired a chaise with a post rider to take them to the manor of Maidenstone Court and back to London, so there was neither room nor need for Martha or any of the other servants to come with them.
Three hours proved to be a generous estimate, even with the brief stop halfway to change the horses. They passed through Maidencraig Frampton and stopped at the bailiff’s house, just before the iron gates to the carriage drive that led to the Court.
