Page 17 of Miss Harvey's Horribly Lovable Fiancé
He headed for the Hall.
“I say, Lord Northington!”
He paused and looked back down the lane.
Winston, Earl of Dalworthy, called to him. Beside him was a man he’d met only briefly years ago when both of them were quite young. A striking fellow with dark blue eyes and brown hair highlighted by being much too long in the sun. What was his name? Lindsey? Lawton?
Dalworthy hurried up to him. “Good to see you here, Northington. Allow me to introduce my friend, Lord Lawton-Bridges. A neighbor of mine in the country and a war hero.”
The fellow put out his hand. “Bridges, please, shorter is best.”
“In the service, were you?” He applauded men who had put their blood on the lines in duty to their country.
“Captain, Royal Engineers. I only recently have come to the family title and estate. A new challenge for me, I daresay, to attempt to manage land instead of change its topography.”
“I’d say you and your fellow officers proved you do that extremely well, Bridges.”
He inclined his head in compliment. “I realize you may have just arrived and have much on your mind with your wedding tomorrow, but hopefully you have a few minutes to talk business. Dalworthy and I have a topic we’d like to discuss with you.”
“Please do.” He welcomed the diversion. “I don’t know how logical I can be.”
Bridges smiled. “Marriage deserves contemplation.”
“Doesn’t it, though! I must return to the house and speak with Esme, but do enlighten me as to your topic.”
“We will all walk together then,” Bridges said. “What Dalworthy and I wish to discuss is land.”
“Near both Bridges’ and my estate,” Dalworthy added.
“If you wish advice on planting, I tell you, gentlemen, I am not the best farmer to ask for advice.”
Bridges shook his head. “Well, sir, we are less inclined to talk planting and more about improvement.”
Giles took interest. “Tell me, please.”
“Your father owns a slip of land along the river near our homes and estates. We’d like to improve the entire length,” said Dalworthy. “Bridges here has an idea to improve the flow and the embankment to save our tenants from floods.”
“A parcel of land that my father owns? Which?”
“A slice along the River Ouse,” said Bridges. “If it is in the entail, we must have permission from your father to improve it. And we understand you make recommendations to him about such ventures.”
“I do indeed.” He had often advised his father of opportunities to develop his land and his income. More often than not, the duke did not take them. But because Giles was the heir and those conditions were ones he could inherit sooner or later, he considered it incumbent upon him to advise his sire of such matters.
He envisioned the Ouse riverside. He’d last visited the plot the summer of ’twelve after a severe flood. “Only four or five tenants live on our portion. Why are you interested in it?”
Dalworthy looked pained. “I have tenants nearby.”
“So do I,” said Bridges. “At minimum, I see potential for shoring up both sides of the river bank, ending the flooding. If we three could agree to fund such a project, the best solution would be to build a small dam. All our tenants would suffer less with spring rains and summer squalls. As it is, the waters rise and flood their fields out. They starve and die and theirs is a needless, pitiful loss.”
Giles thought of similar problems he himself had on lands his father owned in York. This project would be a good introduction to undergoing similar changes there. “As an engineer you see the potential in such projects.”
“I do.”
Oh, how he could use a dam or two! “I’m interested.”
Concern fell away from Bridges face.
“More than interested,” he added. “Might we talk of this in an hour or so? I have an issue I must address.”
