Manor for Sale, Baron Included: A Victorian Romance (A Romance of Rank Book 1)

by Esther Hatch

  Her heart was as lukewarm as his tea.

  Mr. Sterling’s hand stopped its incessant tapping. “You must miss your mother. Does she not visit Greenwood Manor?”

  “She came in the summer, but during the Season she prefers to remain in London. If nothing else, she likes to pressure me into coming there and participating in society, even if it is only for a short time.”

  “But she must see there is ample society here in Dorset. I hope I have provided some in the past months.”

  “You have, and I thank you.”

  “I hope you won’t leave without letting me know.”

  Mrs. Merryweather set down her empty cup. “I will make certain you are informed of Miss Duncan’s departure.”

  Mr. Sterling made a few more comments about the wealth of society Weymouth provided, but Sally struggled to follow his conversation. Was it time to go to London again? If she did, would she find Lord Farnsworth there? Would they dance?

  If they had another chance to be alone, would the outcome be any different?

  It had been a year and he hadn’t ever come to visit, not even to see the library. One word from Sally to Mama about him and Sally could at least have news of him. Had he found an heiress to remedy his financial woes?

  “Miss Duncan.” Mrs. Merryweather interrupted Sally’s thoughts. “Mr. Sterling is taking his leave.”

  Sally jerked to attention. She had been uncommonly rude, and it wasn’t the first time. It was a wonder Mr. Sterling still visited. She bade him farewell, then excused herself to Mrs. Merryweather.

  Victoria had spent the morning out of doors. She was most likely in the library now. Sally opened the door to the library slowly so as not to startle her.

  Victoria sat with her legs up on the sofa, her wheeled chair nearby. Mama would have had a fit of the vapors had she seen Victoria so casually draped on the red velvet cushions, but it settled Sally’s nerves to find her so comfortable. Victoria finished reading the page she was on and then looked up. “How was your visit with Mr. Sterling?”

  How was it? “Uneventful.”

  “So he hasn’t asked to speak to you alone yet?”

  “No.” She wanted to deny that day was coming, but unless Sally started being more forceful in her responses to him, it eventually would. If he weren’t exactly the type of man that she had pictured marrying after she ended her engagement to Mr. Harrison, she would have said something to discourage him last month.

  “Do you ever think of John?”

  “John?” She meant Lord Farnsworth. But it was ridiculous that Victoria called him by his Christian name. Even Sally didn’t call him that, and she had kissed him. She had held his head while he rested it on her collarbone, and she had traced the lines of worry from his brow. Sally cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. “John who?”

  Victoria shook her head and her eyes went to the heavens. “Lord Farnsworth. The man who practically lived here a year and a half ago.”

  Why was Victoria bringing him up now? They hadn’t spoken of him in months. “Ah, yes, the man I bought the manor from.”

  Victoria snorted in a very unladylike manner. Perhaps she needed to spend time with someone other than the gruff gardener. She narrowed her eyes at Sally. “The man I was hoping you would marry and make my brother.”

  “Why did you want me to marry him? You didn’t know him any better than I did.”

  “That is easy—he made you smile.”

  A knot of pain that she hadn’t felt in at least six months twisted her gut. “I smile.”

  “Not as much as you should. He made you laugh, too. He made you laugh and smile. I never saw you happier than when you were plotting to make his life a bit more miserable.”

  “That is why you thought I should marry him? Because I laughed when I was coming up with ideas to frustrate him? That is certainly nothing to build a relationship on.”

  “Maybe not for ordinary people.”

  “Are you implying we are not ordinary?”

  “Oh, Sally, of course the two of you aren’t ordinary. He is a baron who taught me how to box. You owned a very successful business and gave it all up so we could live here together. Ordinary people don’t do things like that. And you would be bored with an ordinary man.”

  “What do you mean I sold the business for you? I wanted this manor. Vermillion was an amazing amount of work.”

  “Vermillion was the other thing that made you smile. You didn’t sell it so you could live in the country. You sold it for me.”

  “I’ve never regretted it.” Sally padded her way to the sofa, lifted Victoria’s feet, and sat down with Victoria’s legs on her lap. “You have blossomed here, and in ways I never would have guessed.”

  “Is it very bad of me to be grateful? I missed you when you were working so much. But I do know you loved it.”

  “Can you believe it? I love you more.”

  “I know. But you can do it again if you would like. It wouldn’t be grandfather’s business, but you could start another.”

  “Once you are married, I plan to.”

  “You don’t need to wait for me to be married. That day may never come.”

  “Do you want to marry?”

  Victoria set the book down on the side table next to her and swung her legs to the ground. “I don’t know. I don’t want a husband who feels sorry for me.”

  “Then don’t marry one who will.”

  Victoria scoffed. “That man will be hard to find. It isn’t as though there is a world filled with men like John and Mr. Ashton.”

  There she was again, mentioning Lord Farnsworth as if he were still part of the estate. “There are. There really are.” But Mr. Sterling wasn’t one of them. Sally would have to turn him down the next time he came. It was cruel of her to keep his hopes up. There was a time when she might have seen him as a suitor, but now that she knew men like Lord Farnsworth were out there—men who could make her smile and laugh and be wonderfully unordinary—the very ordinary Mr. Sterling was no longer enough.

  How could a fifteen-year-old understand her heart better than she did? She was bored enough as it was; she didn’t need to add a boring man to her life, no matter how fiscally solvent he was.

  “I think they might be hard to find, though,” Victoria said.

  “Are you saying the two of us aren’t up to the task?”

  Victoria laughed. “No, I know you will accomplish anything you set your mind to. I only wonder if perhaps we shouldn’t have let John slip through our fingers.”

  The sun outside the windows went behind a cloud and the room darkened. “Victoria, do you mean for you?” It would make sense, providing Lord Farnsworth hadn’t married. Victoria’s dowry was large enough to tempt a man who had financial troubles.

  Victoria made a face like she had eaten fish that had been left out too many days. “Ew. No. I meant for you, of course.”

  The knot at the back of Sally’s neck loosened. She hated to disappoint Victoria, but at least she wasn’t going to pretend like she would be happy if Lord Farnsworth were to join the family as her brother. “Well, it has been a year and he hasn’t even tried to contact me, not even to see this library.”

  “Why would he want to see the library?”

  Sally tipped her head to one side and shrugged. “He thought I was going to turn it into a menagerie.”

  Victoria burst out laughing. “You told him you were going to turn this beautiful room into a menagerie?”

  Victoria’s laugh had always been the contagious kind. Sally snickered and pointed at Victoria. “It was your fault, you know, with that fish paper you picked out. How else was I to explain it?”

  Victoria bent at the waist, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. “You are going to blame my fish papers for the fact that you told that poor, besotted man you were going to build a menagerie in his home.”

  Sally stilled at the word his. Victoria’s laughter, short as it was, stopped. Greenwood Manor would always be his home. It didn
’t matter how many atrocious papers they lined the walls with, both of them would always feel like it was his.

  “Perhaps it is time we redid the library.”

  “With fish paper?” Victoria smiled, but it was too broad, the moment of laughter was gone, and no amount of fish paper would bring it back.

  “No, probably not.”

  “I think what you did to the library last year before we went to London was perfect. It doesn’t need to be redone.”

  It was perfect, and it had been the least expensive of all of her projects. More elbow grease had been required than anything else. But the truth of the matter was, that library was the heart of the home, and as long as it remained as it was, the heart of the home would be his. “Maybe next year. If I find just the right carpets.”

  Victoria seemed to read her thoughts. “Maybe, but there is no rush. Take all the time you need.”

  Sally stood from her chair. She didn’t excuse herself, but simply walked away. All the time she needed? It had been a year, and nothing had changed other than the fact that she grew more and more certain Lord Farnsworth had forgotten about her. After all, she had to spend every waking hour in his home. He had nothing of hers to keep her on his mind, and lived in a town full of heiresses who would be happy to trade their wealth for a title.

  If he hadn’t married by now, it would be quite astonishing.

  She nearly made it to her room, ready to throw herself on her bed when she stopped, turned around and headed toward the garden. She was tired of waiting for the newspaper with no news of Lord Farnsworth. She had seen the way he had interacted with Mr. Ashton. Even if he didn’t write to Sally, he would have written to his old gardener, wouldn’t he?

  Sally marched through the house and then the garden until she came to the path that led to Mr. Ashton’s cottage. She stopped for a moment when her foot sank into the soft gravel of that path. What was she thinking, begging information from her gardener?

  She shook her head and continued onward. Mr. Ashton would not think less of her simply because she was asking after an old friend of his. She would simply have to begin the conversation with something else, and then ease into her questions about Lord Farnsworth. She could do that. If she was natural about it, he wouldn’t suspect anything.

  She rapped on Mr. Ashton’s door. Sounds of shuffling inside informed her he was there, but he didn’t open the door. What was taking the old man so long?

  After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled open the door. “Miss Duncan?” His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Is everything all right in the garden? Do you need something?”

  This was the perfect opening to ask him a completely reasonable question. “Have you heard anything of Lord Farnsworth? Victoria has been speaking of him, so I was simply curious. In the last year, has he contacted you or sent you any news?”

  Sally forced her face to remain still and not grimace. So much for easing into the conversation. At least she had mentioned Victoria. That had to help a bit, didn’t it?

  Mr. Ashton chuckled. His eyes shifted to his living room and the door on the other side of it. She hadn’t ever been inside Mr. Ashton’s cottage; they had only ever spoken outside. “Why don’t you come in?”

  “You have heard of him, then? How is he doing?” What answer was she hoping for? Was he as miserable as she was? Was he well? Neither thought brought her joy. Him being miserable brought her perhaps the slightest bit of satisfaction, which most likely meant she was a horrible person.

  “I think he is doing quite well, actually. I have heard from him.”

  “Quite well? What do you mean by quite well? Is he to be married?” She grimaced. Had it been so long since she was in a high stakes conversation that she had forgotten how to negotiate at all?

  Mr. Ashton chuckled again. “It is my guess that he hopes to be.”

  The room went dark. She reached for the side of the door to steady herself. She shouldn’t have come. She turned on her heel to leave, but Mr. Ashton reached forward and grabbed her elbow. “Come in and sit down, Miss Duncan. I have more I can tell you.”

  More? Did she want to hear more, like who the woman was and what she looked like? An evil part of her hoped she was rich as a king, and as ugly and mean as a pockmarked boar. Mr. Ashton led her gently to a chair, then seemed to change his mind and instead guided her to a settee. After she sat down, he took the chair. “Tell me what you know of Lord Farnsworth’s finances.”

  His finances? The only thing she knew is that they were bad, and he didn’t feel that he could change his ways enough to improve them. “He had to sell a home to me, so I know they aren’t good.”

  “They weren’t; you are right about that. Now, I know plenty of people who wouldn’t complain to have his financial problems, but the fact of the matter was, the money coming out of his estates was not as much as the money going in, and he didn’t know how to fix that.”

  “And his extravagant taste in clothing couldn't help.”

  Mr. Ashton raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I’ve seen him in anything new since he came to stay here a year ago.”

  “You’ve seen him? He has visited you, and he never even thought to stop in and see me and Victoria?”

  He was silent again. He shifted in his chair and pulled at the collar of his shirt.

  “He visited Victoria?”

  Mr. Ashton jumped up from his chair and put a finger to his lips.

  “Why are you shushing me? No one is here.”

  Mr. Ashton’s brow furrowed, the lines deepened to crevices, and his eyes flashed to the room at the back of the house.

  Her heart froze. The shuffling before Mr. Ashton let her into his home, the way his eyes kept nervously returning to his bedroom door, could only mean one thing: someone was here. And there was only one person Mr. Ashton would hide from her.

  Lord Farnsworth.

  He was in this cottage right now. He had most likely spoken with Victoria earlier. Surely their topic of conversation in the parlor was not by chance. Lord Farnsworth was not on Victoria’s mind simply because he was always on her mind like he was for Sally. Victoria had seen him.

  She put both hands to her sides and gripped the settee as if her life depended on it. “He is here.”

  “Now, Miss Duncan, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

  “He is here and he doesn’t want to see me.”

  “I highly doubt that. In fact, he was just speaking to me about the possibility of seeing you.”

  “He was?” Her voice came out as a squeak. What was wrong with her? She smoothed down her dress as she debated running out of the cottage and back to her room. If he had truthfully wanted to see her, he would have come to Greenwood Manor, not to Mr. Ashton’s cottage.

  “He was. He simply wanted me to explain something to you first, so that he wouldn’t have to.” Here it was—the news she had been waiting over a year to hear. Lord Farnsworth was getting married and he wanted Mr. Ashton to tell her so he wouldn’t have to. Mr. Ashton leaned forward and patted her hand. “First of all, I want to go back to my original question about his finances.”

  Lord Farnsworth was in this cottage. Only a door stood between them and Mr. Ashton wanted her to sit down and talk about Lord Farnsworth’s finances? Why couldn’t he tell her himself? She had never thought him a coward.

  Sally stiffened her spine, determined to get through this conversation as an uninterested third party. “They aren’t good.”

  “They haven’t been, but he has been working hard and things have been changing for him.”

  “He stopped buying such expensive waistcoats,” she said loudly enough and with enough bite that he would hopefully hear.

  “His trouble was never about waistcoats. It was about the price of grain and decreasing the rents for his tenants because of it.”

  “Decreasing the rents? Why would he decrease rent if he was also getting lower prices for grain?”

  Mr. Ashton clicked his tongue. “John knows those tenants. Some of th
em spoke more to him than his father did while he was growing up. The decrease in grain prices has most tenants moving into cities for work, but he didn’t want to force them to make that choice, so he lowered his rents. He is a good man, Miss Duncan. It is a hard time to be a baron with a conscience, is all.”

  Her stomach sank. All this time, she had wasted a whole year thinking he was frivolous and not worth dwelling on. But that was the reason he was bleeding money? Because he wanted to make life affordable for his tenants? She would have married him if she had known. Surely he must have known she would have married him. Mr. Ashton didn’t seem to notice her distress. “Well, things have gotten better and he has come into some money—not much, mind you, but he is certain soon it will be more and, well…” He shifted uncomfortably. “Blast it. He should be the one telling you this. He doesn’t want to play the part of martyr because of his tenants, is all.” His eyes flashed to a paper on the table and he sighed a sigh so deep she could have built a well around it. What was on that paper? She stood and rushed over to it, grabbing it before he had a chance to stop her.

  Her eyes caught hold only of the first line. A proposal to buy Greenwood Manor. She blinked. Why would he want to buy the manor?

  Mr. Ashton grabbed the paper from her hand. “Don’t look at that. Not without him explaining it.”

  She grabbed it back from him and crumpled it without reading any further. “I will never sell him Greenwood Manor, and you can tell him that.” She raised her voice loud enough that Mr. Ashton wouldn't have to tell Lord Farnsworth what she had said. He should have heard it loud and clear from where he was hiding.

  She spun on her heel and dashed out of the door.

  There was only one reason to buy the manor, and only one way he could possibly afford to. Mr. Ashton had just told her his financial situation was not good but that he hoped it would soon improve. That meant he would soon be getting married. Jonathan had found a woman rich enough to allow him the luxury of buying his mother’s house back. “Miss Duncan!” Mr. Ashton called out behind her, but she didn’t turn around “John, get out here, you idiot. I told you I shouldn’t be the one to speak to her. She has run off.”