Page 22 of Miss Harvey's Horribly Lovable Fiancé
“Prudent of you!” His reply was more jovial than he felt.
“On that,” said Rory stepping back, “I will leave you to your deliberations. But I would like to visit with you tonight at the ball, Giles. It’s been much too long for us to reminisce.”
“I agree. I’d like nothing more.”
A footman stood to one corner of the room and as the three men took chairs before a goodly fire in the grate, the servant stepped forward to offer wine.
None of the three accepted so the servant bowed himself away and out the doors, which he closed behind him.
Giles had thought briefly about Dalworthy’s and Bridges’s proposal. Needing more information before he decided on it, nonetheless he liked it. Of course, he did. Anything that improved life for any and all had always appealed to him. What had he worked for, fought for, lived for if not peace and prosperity for all? He wanted to follow their advice and shore up the river banks and build a dam.
The problem was his father’s disinclination to spend a penny to benefit others. The man was so far in debt, he needed every cent he could earn, beg or steal to ward off his creditors. Giles knew the pain of that all too well. Especially today on the eve of his wedding and his sire’s obstinate refusal to sign the proper documents for it. If he understood these two men’s proposals correctly, he had a few ideas that might save his own situation. The land the duchy owned along the River Ouse in Kent he knew was not entailed. That meant he could advise his father to sell it. So if the price were right, Brentford would let it go in his next heartbeat.
“How much capital do you estimate you require to start this project for the excavation of the river banks and the dam?”
“For all three parcels of land,” Bridges said, “I cannot be certain until I do a survey.”
Giles waved a hand. “Guess, then. Please. Humor me.”
Dalworthy narrowed his gaze in a curious muse. “Including an investment by you?”
Giles nodded. “And, or my father. You are surprised I offer?”
“Indeed.” Bridges sat forward—and did not say what they all surmised that Brentford would rather die than invest. “I would like to survey it to be certain, but my recollection is that your land is eight miles long by eighteen inland near Dalworthy’s home and mine.”
“I cannot remember the last time I saw the original maps,” Giles said. “They must be in my father’s files. But I recall examining similar documents about that parcel a few years ago in my house in London. My estate manager and my father’s would have reference to all of them, too. So let me say for now, I not only welcome your new survey, but I will also pay you for it.”
“Wonderful,” said Bridges.
“So the cost if the duchy contributes a share to the dam?”
“Given the size of the dam and say, six months to build,” Bridges said, “I’d estimate approximately one thousand three hundred per man. A total of four thousand pounds at most.”
Giles pondered the amount. He had only a few projects to compare to this but the price seemed fair, to be sure. “And if I wish to sell the land to you?”
Dalworthy’s eyes popped wide. “It is not entailed?”
“No.”
Bridges blew out a gust of air. “Then Dalworthy and I would have to deliberate on a price.”
“And make me an offer.”
“Do you think your father would entertain that?”
He must. He will. If I dare give the choice in hopes he will never ask for more.“I will see to it that he entertains all options.”
Bridges tipped his head. “All?”
“I think we have a few possible means of financial cooperation. Three to be exact.”
Bridges checked Dalworthy’s expression and both nodded at each other. “Well then, let’s discuss them all.”
Chapter 6
Esme rushed up the lane toward the parsonage and—at the sounds of two women chatting—she sank back into the budding shrubbery. In the orange-red rays of gloaming, they couldn’t spot her.
Mrs. Tandy, the innkeeper’s wife and her friend Sadie who was the wife of the brewer skipped along the lane. Tipsy, they giggled like girls.
