by Jane Charles
However, he could think on that tomorrow because right now, Lady Hannah was in the sitting room enjoying tea.
Since her arrival in Barbados, Hannah spent little time indoors. The island called to her: the surf against the sand, the winds that cooled the skin and the vibrant aromatic flora drew her to the veranda every moment and tonight was no exception. After accepting tea from Jillian, she’d made her way outside and wondered if she’d ever not be awed at the vast sea and the nearly black sky alit with stars sparkling like diamonds.
“Might I have the pleasure of your company on a stroll?”
She whirled around at the rich timber of Wingate’s tone and tried to remain calm and polite, but it was quite difficult since he’d sought her out, and not to simply alert her that supper was to be served. “It would be my honor, Lord Wingate.” She set her cup and saucer on a small table then took his offered arm.
Such a perfect night, especially now that she was on the arm of a most perfect gentleman.
“If I might be so bold, Lady Hannah, finding that you are visiting your brother has been the most pleasant surprise,” he said after they stepped away from the entry and further toward the edge of the veranda.
Goodness, what should she say? “Thank you, Lord Wingate.”
“I had hoped that we could have become better acquainted last spring.”
He turned and looked down as if searching her eyes. Did he think she hadn’t wished for the same? “I apologize for my mother,” Hannah blurted out.
The corner of his mouth quirked. “Does that mean you were at home at least a few of the times I called?
Hannah’s pulse skipped as her eyes widened. “You called on me?”
“Your response has just confirmed my suspicions.”
“Suspicions?”
“I called on you nearly a dozen times and am happy to know that you were not aware.”
“I do not know when you called but I was most assuredly home on some of those occasions.” He had called several times? It was much more than she had dreamed. “Had I known…”
“Do not worry yourself,” he assured her. “We are here now, on a beautiful island, and now have a chance to come to know one another. That is if that’s your wish as well.”
“Yes.” Hannah hoped she didn’t sound like a silly schoolgirl in her quick reply, which was also quite irritating as she’d never been one to become senseless and adoring in the presence of a handsome gentleman. She disliked seeing the fawning in other misses and hated it even more in herself. With a deep breath, Hannah willed her fluttering heart to calm.
“I’m assuming you made this trip to visit your brothers, but why didn’t the rest of your family join you?”
“I actually came as a companion to Lady Whitley, who wished to visit her daughter.” At least her tone had lost some of the airiness in her answer. “My duties ended when the ship docked. I’ll be returning to England with Nate in February.”
“As will I.” He grinned. “Not with Nathaniel, but with my family, so it appears our holiday will be of a similar duration.”
“What has brought you to the island, Lord Wingate?”
“Part of the Wingate inheritance was a plantation and as Eldridge planned on visiting his sister, I thought it a perfect opportunity and joined him.”
“How fortuitous that it occurred during my visit,” she admitted, not willing to hide the fact that she was very pleased that he was here. Though, she shouldn’t be too happy, as Wingate had lost his father a few months back. “I was sorry to hear of your loss.”
“Thank you, though I’m not surprised that the sordid details have already made their way around England.”
Hannah blinked up at Wingate. “Sordid details? I only learned that he passed, not any details.”
Wingate winced.
“You don’t need to tell me a thing,” Hannah assured him, but she was anxious to learn since apparently it wasn’t a natural death from old age or illness.
“If I don’t tell you now, who knows what tales you’ll hear once the Season is upon us.” He grimaced.
Society did have a habit of taking a simple on dit and embellishing it with each telling. Thankfully Hannah had never done anything to garner the notice or attention of the matrons, but she’d witnessed firsthand how a simple incident could be exaggerated, to almost not even resembling the truth all in the span of one evening at a ball.
He offered his arm and he strolled further away as he told her how his father had been killed.
“Goodness, how horrible for you to have witnessed such tragic events.”
“Yes, well, we’ve tried to put it behind us, but I fear I will have no such luck with the next Season. All I can hope is that something more scintillating and scandalous occurs in the meantime so my family will be forgotten.”
Hannah couldn’t very well blame him. Gossips could be vicious, and this was a story that nobody would forget for a very long time.
“I promise that if I hear any untruths, Lord Wingate, I will set the party straight.” She’d not stand by and remain mum. The events were tragic enough without the whole of London talking of it.
Chapter 5
Ashton woke the following morning still uncertain what he was going to do with the plantation, but hopeful for the opportunity to come to know Lady Hannah. As he breakfasted, he considered his day and Lady Hannah. This afternoon he would call on her. They might take tea or walk along the beach. However, he’d be very careful not to attach courtship to his attention. One did not officially court a lady if a betrothal wasn’t already in the back of his mind and as Ashton couldn’t even consider marriage until his future was set to rights, he could not allow Lady Hannah, or her brothers, to believe that was his intention.
However, that didn’t mean that he’d not take this opportunity to come to know Lady Hannah further. He did not yet know what the spring would hold and if he were able to sell all that wasn’t entailed, he might just find himself in a position that he could think of his own future and possibly pursue her.
“A letter has been left for Lord Wingate,” a footman announced and placed it on the table next to Ashton.
Wingate,
It’s come to my attention that you are visiting your holdings for which I am grateful, as it will save me a trip to London in the coming spring. I would be honored if you and your sister would join me for luncheon following services on Sunday. It will also give us the opportunity to meet in private to discuss the agreement made between your father and myself. I look forward to making your acquaintance at St. Michael’s Parish Church and would be pleased to have you join me in my family pew.
Silas Palmer
His gut tightened, though Ashton had no way of knowing exactly what the agreement was, his father had been paying the man regularly for years. At least Ashton would now learn why.
“Is all well?” Roxburg asked with concern.
Ashton looked up at him. “What do you know of Mr. Silas Palmer?”
“Why do you ask?” he questioned instead of answering.
“He’s invited my sister and I to church on Sunday and luncheon following services.”
Roxburg frowned. “I was unaware that you knew the man.”
“I don’t, but I believe he and my father were some type of business partners. He wishes to discuss an agreement the two made.”
“I highly doubt they were business partners,” Roxburg snorted. “Palmer partners no one.”
“Who is he then?” And, why had Ashton’s father been paying the man two hundred pounds a quarter?
Roxburg sighed and leaned back in his chair. “As I’ve been told, and learned myself, Palmer is a wealthy merchant. His father was from Massachusetts and made their money in ship building. Palmer then made his own fortune as a privateer and running blockades during our war with America. When that ended, he turned his attention to trade between America and England where he made a second fortune. That’s when he fell in love with a lady in London. His suit was rejected be
cause she thought him too old, and then rejected by her father because Palmer was too common despite his vast wealth. Bitter, Palmer settled here and eventually married the daughter of a neighboring landowner and continued to amass further wealth, mostly from making loans to those in dire straits at exorbitant rates of interest.”
Aston’s stomach sank. Without asking or proof, he already knew that his father had taken a loan from Palmer. How much and was the man about to insist that it be paid in full?
Appetite gone; Ashton pushed his plate away.
Bloody hell! The last thing he needed was yet another debt to pay.
“Beware of that man. I don’t know what he has in mind, but he is quite eager that his daughter marry a titled gentleman and believes such will bring respectability to his family. You and I both know that a title doesn’t necessarily equate to esteem.” Roxburg leaned forward. “He tried several times to ingratiate himself to me when he learned that I had unexpectedly become a duke and I found it necessary not to be at home when he called, and avoided him in town before I finally set sail back to England.”
And here he’d been worried about matchmaking mamas. Except, Palmer had made no mention of his daughter. No, he wanted to discuss the agreement reached with Ashton’s father, though Ashton was certain that the agreement actually meant debt.
All he could hope was that he’d earn enough from the sale of the plantation to clear the debt.
Though Ashton would like to call on Lady Hannah this afternoon, it would need to be put off as a decision about the plantation could no longer wait. Therefore, following breakfast, Ashton spent the morning with Roxburg touring his property and learning the process from the growing of sugar cane to the shipment to England, as well as the distilling of rum, so that he could make a more informed decision as to Grell Hill Plantation. Following the midday meal, he rode to his plantation and reviewed it with an eye to what it had been and what it could be again, though he would not be the one to bring the property back to its former glory.
The once lush fields lay destroyed, having been burned. The grand home stood, mostly due to the fact that it was made from coral stone, but the fire had burned close enough that the lower sections of the house were scorched from smoke and flames. A few outbuildings were in ruin, but the stables remained.
He stood back to note that only the lower windows of the house were cracked, splintered and broken. Thankfully, those on the second floor remained whole. Except, when half of the house had been open to the elements for over a year, as well as all the smoke from the fire, there was a very good possibility that the furnishings would need to be replaced throughout the house.
He’d barely stepped inside yesterday and had been so overwhelmed by the damage that Ashton hadn’t bothered to tour the rest of the rooms or climb the stairs. Today, he’d need to take a full accounting so that he knew exactly how much work was going to be required and how much was lost when setting a value to sell.
Inside, there were scorch marks on the carpets and spent torches. “It’s a wonder it didn’t burn from the inside,” Ashton commented to himself.
The furniture and curtains reeked of mildew from becoming wet and drying in the humidity. These lower rooms would definitely need to be gutted, painted and refurnished. Perhaps he should take what was left inside and burn it the way his fields had been destroyed.
Ashton pushed his fingers through his hair and wandered upstairs. Even though furnishings, clothing and belongings had been left behind, there was little to salvage and the only items free of decay were those that had been locked up tight in trunks. Some contained bedding, others contained clothing, not that he needed any of the items, but he wasn’t above selling anything, even if used.
He’d sunk that low. In the past, many belongings that were still in good condition were given to servants or the poor. At this juncture in his life, Ashton couldn’t afford to donate even a blanket if it could bring a quid or two.
Disgusted with himself and overwhelmed by the damage within, Ashton made his way down the servants’ stairs, which emerged into a smaller, cupboard lined room. He peeked into some of the cabinets to find dishes, candles, and the like, basic household items not yet in disrepair. He then exited the back of the house. One path led to a stone building that he assumed had once been the kitchens, and another led through what had been formal gardens at one time. Only weeds grew within now, and grass filled in paths that would have been manicured by a servant if this plantation had been inhabited.
Even if he had the wealth to spare, which he certainly did not, Ashton wasn’t certain he’d invest in this place. There was far, far too much to be done, and all he could hope was that he received a fair price.
“So much for a pleasant holiday in Barbados,” he grumbled as he made his way toward the front of the property and noted the dark clouds rolling closer to the island.
Roxburg had warned of the possibility of a storm given the turbulent surf, and now seeing the darkness, the storm would be upon them shortly. Though given the distance, he was certain he could make it back to Roxburg’s before it reached landfall.
Hannah had spent a good portion of the day in anticipation of a visit from Wingate. Unfortunately, he never called. How could they come to know the other if he didn’t call? Of course, he never stated that he’d call today, but she had hoped.
Frustrated, Hannah changed into her riding habit. With so much excess energy built up in her anticipation of his visit, Hannah found she needed to do something.
“Where are you off to?” Jillian asked as Hannah descended the stairs.
“I thought to ride.”
“If you don’t mind, could you return a book to Mrs. Hildegard.” Jillian hurried into the sitting room, Hannah following. “If you are going in that direction of course. If not, I’ll return it later.”
“It would be my pleasure.” The Hildegards lived not so far away.
“I’m not certain you should ride this afternoon,” Sam said as he entered.
“Why not?” Hannah asked.
“A storm is brewing. They can come on quickly.”
“I’m certain I will be fine,” Hannah dismissed. She’d been caught in storms before and the worse she’d suffered was being soaked to the skin.
“These storms are not like you’ve experienced at home.”
Hannah followed Sam out onto the veranda and looked out over the ocean. There was a bit of wind and the surf was rough, and only a few clouds on the horizon. Though the air was heavy with humidity, the breeze brought a bit of relief.
Sam shielded his eyes and studied the horizon. “Do not be long.”
“I won’t. I’ll just ride a bit, deliver the book to Mrs. Hildegard and be back shortly. I promise to keep an eye out and hurry home if it looks like it will storm.
As she mounted the steed, Hannah noted that even the weather matched her mood--anxious as well. Waves crashed against the beach, more tumultuous than she’d witnessed since she’d arrived and clouds moved above, casting shadows across the landscape. Darker clouds had built on the horizon by the time she’d ridden further down the road, but she wasn’t concerned as the storm was miles away.
As she rode further inland, she noted for the first time an old wooden sign hanging from a rotting post and partially hidden by bushes. She could only make out the “GRELL H” and moved closer to nudge the foliage away with her foot. Grell Hill Plantation and she glanced down the long drive. How had she not noticed it before? As Grell was the surname of Wingate, could this be his plantation?
Was this where Wingate was spending his time or was he back at Roxburg’s?
Regardless of where Wingate was, curiosity got the better of her and she turned her horse down the long drive, eager to see the property.
She glanced back toward the ocean and noted that the storm was still a ways off so she had time to explore and still make it back to the plantation without getting rained on, though she may not risk riding to the Hildegards.
Much of the
plantation was overgrown from not having been tended but soon the house came into view and her heart squeezed. This was once a grand home, but flames, smoke and the elements had brought near destruction. However, her heart lifted immediately when she spotted Lord Wingate come around from the side of his property.
She smiled as she rode toward him. “Is this your plantation?” she asked once she brought her horse to a stop, already knowing the answer.
“What is left of it,” Wingate admitted.
Before he could assist, or even ask her to visit, Hannah slid from her horse because she didn’t wish to be sent away. It was bold of her to do so, but she’d waited months for his notice and would not be put off or wait for him to call on her.
“I don’t believe you should be here,” he finally said.
Hannah blinked at him. “Why ever not?” Was his kindness last night only to reacquaint himself, as if they’d once been friends, but hope of nothing more?
“It isn’t proper,” Wingate stated the obvious.
She practically rolled her eyes. “It isn’t as if we are in London with gossips around every corner. I was simply out riding and came across you.”
“Your brothers would not like it if they learned we were alone together, especially on a currently vacant property.”
She was well aware of the potential impropriety, but it wasn’t as if anyone would ever learn. “Then we shan’t tell them.” She grinned.
Wingate just chuckled and shook his head.
“This must have been a grand plantation at one time.” She could see that it had been constructed well, and there were signs of care, beneath the destruction. One could almost envision what it had looked like. Of course, this was all based on how Sam’s plantation appeared.
“I’m certain it was, but no longer. There is far too much to do to bring it back to what it once was and I’ll only be on the island for a few months. If I were in a position such as your brother, it would be different, but as I am not, it’s better to sell to someone who is able to provide the attention it needs.”