Page 6 of The Remarkable Myth of a Nameless Lady
He had considered it. But the desire to approach from land and not sea had been a nostalgic decision, hearkening back to his only trip to Ireland as a boy. He had wished to see if it was as green as he’d remembered. All this he could not find words to express, so he only smiled and said, “I am. I came overland. I wanted to see what the country was like, as it had been so long.”
His mother had settled back in her seat with her tea, looking more put out the longer this conversation continued. “It is a dreadful place,” she said, setting her cup so hard in her saucer that the tea sloshed over the edge. She set it down on the table next to her with a look of distaste. “They treat us as though we have no right here.”
“Some would say we do not,” Owen said, helping himself to several tarts and sitting on the settee opposite. “This is their country, after all.”
Jacob stared. “Some would call that statement treasonous,” he said with a frown. “Ireland is a part of Great Britain and has been for some time. For better or for worse, the inhabitants should have come to accept that by now.”
The look in Owen’s eyes when he looked at his brother was less friendly than it had been outside. “There is much you do not understand about Ballycrainn, or even Ravencliff, my brother.”
There was some warning there, though what, Jacob could not tell. “I look forward to learning.”
“Do you?”
Owen’s laconic reply seemed to startle Harriet who set down her cup for a second time, though with no less force. “No. You will not spoil this homecoming with a squabble so soon. Owen, apologize to your brother. Jacob, pay him no mind. I expect he is jealous, as he has been tending to the estate since your father died. He is glad to have you here, I know this for a fact!”
“Of course I am,” Owen said, rising so that he might kiss his mother on the cheek. “I will be good. In fact, I will take Jacob out on the morrow and show him the entire estate from top to bottom. We will examine minutely every person here from chimney sweep to chamber maid.”
Harriet flushed crimson. “Owen! Such talk!”
Owen laughed and turned toward the door. “Fear not, Mother, I will scandalize you no further. I must meet a man about some sheep. They were beginning sheering today down in the lower pens and I wish to see how things have gone. Brother, I look forward to hearing your adventures at dinner tonight. I am truly sorry I cannot stay.”
In a moment, he was gone. Jacob might have been mistaken, but he sensed his mother was relieved this was so. She relaxed now, taking up her tea again, looking for all the world as if they had been talking about nothing more important than the weather.
“So,” she said finally, offering him the plate with the tarts again, and smiling as he took one. “Have you had the opportunity to meet many young ladies in London? Now that you are a Duke, I should think you would want to marry. Someone English, of course.”
Chapter 4
Being home felt…strange. Jacob had fast come to realize that for too many years he really hadn’t had a place to call his own. First there had been school, then in more recent years had been his place aboard ship. To stay in one place forever seemed…strange. As though he had been too long a nomad and had forgotten how to put down roots.
It was the next morning, and Jacob stood on the cliff’s edge and watched the waves crash on the rocks far below. This was no gentle beach. Even at low tide the water beat against the boulders, with sparse sand between. The violence suited his mood. He was as restive as the horse behind him, wanting to be off and away, but he’d promised Owen he would wait to begin his tour of his lands.
His lands. The phrase still felt odd to him. How was it he had come to own so many acres, without ever having trod a one of them in over ten years? The place would have been better left to Owen who not only knew this land but loved it. The right of the eldest to inherit seemed a poor way to establish what was best for the estate. He didn’t know the first thing about sheep or farming.
You can learn. The same way you learned to speak a half dozen languages. It is no different.
He took a deep breath of the salt-laden air, more firmly resolved. Besides, if Owen could spend half the night waxing rhapsodic over Ireland, then surely there was something worthwhile about the country despite his mother’s pursed lips and disapproving stare whenever the topic came up.
“Jacob!”
The shout broke his reverie. His brother approached, riding easily on a chestnut horse with four white socks. He rode easily, as though accustomed to long hours in the saddle. The horse arched its neck and pranced sideways as they came to halt behind him. A mare, he realized, coquettish in the presence of his stallion.
“Pretty lady,” Jacob said, patting the velvet muzzle before mounting his own horse. “Wherever did you get her?”
“A local breeder raises hunters for the annual chase. She was the best of the lot,” Owen said fondly, leaning forward to pat the glossy neck of his mount.
“You hunt, then?” Jacob asked, one eyebrow raising in surprise, trying to picture his brother riding to hounds over fences.
Owen laughed. “You might be surprised how civilized we are up here. But come, the morning is half gone and I would have you understand how vast your holdings are, Your Grace.”
His tone was slightly mocking. Jacob laughed and followed as his brother took the mare down the road between the fields at a fast clip.
The morning that followed was an educational one. Owen had a clearer understanding of the estate than Jacob had expected, given his father had only died a few months since. He rattled off numbers of sheep and goats, and talked fairly intelligently about the making of cheese in the dairy to the point where Jacob finally came out and asked whether Owen had perchance been caring for the estate than longer than he realized.
They were standing, overlooking a field of potatoes, the main staple of the Irish diet, he was told.
Owen thought a moment before answering. “Father had been declining for a long time, since the last time you saw him, I suspect. That was his last trip to London, and it took a great deal out of him. Oh, it started easy enough. He started asking me to check this or that with the men who worked under him, and sent me down to oversee the men shearing the sheep, or working the fields at harvest.”
“You saw no need to tell me?” Jacob asked, his tone a little sharper than he intended.
