The poor young lady. I hope she has recovered from the incident. Why did I not ask her for her name so I could call on her? She seemed familiar, so did many of the lords and ladies at the ball and yet I spoke to hardly any of them. The only time I felt comfortable with anyone was with the young lady.
He sighed heavily when a knock on the door drew his attention. Hastings, his estate steward, entered the room. Jonathan was still in shock over how much the man had aged since he’d last seen him. Jonathan had been away for almost ten years, but Hastings appeared to have aged many times that. He walked with a beautifully-carved walking stick, a gift from Jonathan’s father. His hair was entirely white and his face lined with deep wrinkles.
“Good morning, Your Grace. I hope you had an enjoyable time at the ball last night. Were you able to surprise your friends as planned?”
Jonathan groaned at the question and shook his head. He’d returned from India less than a week before and decided to surprise his closest childhood friends, Mister Eric Gordon and Mister Thomas Brown, by attending last night’s ball. Given that both were keen on balls and the life of each party, he’d been certain they would be there. Oh, what a reunion it would have been! But he’d found neither in attendance.
“Evidently, both are out of town, thus my surprise was an utter failure. As for the ball itself…it was rather unpleasant. I had quite forgotten how catty the ladies of the ton can be.”
He shook his head as the incident came back to his mind. “There was an unpleasant incident that, I’m afraid to say, has only furthered my dislike for these types of events, Hastings.”
Hastings pressed his lips together before speaking again.
“How very unfortunate, Your Grace. Perhaps when your friends return to town you may feel different?”
“Perhaps.” Jonathan shrugged. He had sent word ahead via letter that he was returning to England after his journey overseas. He’d hoped to see them at the ball, or at least be able to reconnect with some of his neighbors. But shortly after arriving he’d witnessed the young lady’s distress and it had put him out of the mood for a ball entirely.
“Has Your Grace had a chance to survey the paperwork I left?” He walked as though his feet were weighted down and sat on the red-velvet covered chair as soon as Jonathan indicated for him to do so. He plopped rather than sat as Jonathan heard the old man’s knee joint pop.
Jonathan sighed. “I have. And I understand little of it other than the tenants are behind. Is the estate in trouble?”
Hastings swayed his head back and forth.
“Not quite. Your Grace’s fortune is not in any danger. But, since Your Grace’s Father separated from the sugar plantation in the Caribbean, there has been a reduction in income. In addition, the annuity to Your Grace’s Mother in Scotland further reduced your fortune.”
Jonathan frowned. “I am certain my Father provided my Mother with only what she asked for. And she would not ask for outrageous sums, she is a modest woman, Hastings.”
Hastings, an older fellow who much believed in the old ways of the world and stood hesitantly in the face of change, sighed heavily.
“Be that as it may, the real issue is the lack of rent and tithe paid by some of the farmers.”
Jonathan narrowed his eyes. “Is this not why we employ an estate steward? To ensure such issues are attended to?”
Hastings nodded, “Of course, Your Grace. If you would like to look over the correspondence here and here,” he shuffled pages around the desk, “You will see what is owed.”
Jonathan picked up a sheet and his eyes bulged.
“Jones has not paid a tithe or rent in six months? And Forester in eight? And there are more! Hastings, I do not wish to be blunt, but what have you been doing since my Father passed away and I was in India?”
The old man cleared his throat, “I apologize for disappointing you, Your Grace. “
Jonathan shook his head. “My Father always spoke of you with the highest regard, but I must admit that I do not see much evidence of your abilities as Estate Manager. True, my finances are not in disarray, but the number of tenants that have not paid rent, the outstanding tithe …”
He shook his head and looked from the papers on his desk to the old man whose lips quivered.
“I have done my best, I assure you, Your Grace. The Duke, the previous Duke, had been quite withdrawn for some months before he passed away. I have been unwell myself and my wife…” The old man swallowed hard. “It has been difficult.” Tears welled up in the old man’s blue eyes.
I have upset him. Why did I have to be so harsh with him? I have been gone a long time, and many things have changed. I should not have been so demanding. He is an old man, after all. Why must I be so forward sometimes?
“Hastings, I am only trying to understand the problems so we can address them.”
“Yes, Your Grace. I have not done as thorough a job as I have in the past. I must admit, I have not the energy I once had. And the farmers know that fact. Some of the farmers have taken advantage of the situation. Knowing that there was no lord in residence, with Your Grace far away in India, made some of them rather keen to take advantage.”
“Jones has always been a cocky one. Stiffing us on his tithe and trying to shave off parts of his rent. I recall him well. I assume he is the ringleader among those who have not paid?”
Hastings nodded. “He is indeed.”
“I shall speak to him myself and ensure he knows there is once again a Duke of Ekhard in residence, and that such behavior will not stand. Neither will disrespect to my steward. You speak with my voice when you speak to these tenants, and I will ensure he knows that. “
The old man nodded. His grip tightened around his walking stick.
“That is all, Hastings. Go home and attend to your wife,” Jonathan said, releasing the man from his duty for the day.
“Yes, Your Grace.” He rose with some difficulty, which made Jonathan feel even worse. He had grown so old and he’d been in charge of the running of the estate for several months, since the sudden death of Jonathan’s father in the summer.
“Hastings?” He called the man when he had almost reached the door.
“Yes, Your Grace?”
“I apologize for my harsh words earlier. I have been overwhelmed with responsibility and I should not have turned my frustrations on you. You have done your very best, I am certain.”
A slight smile appeared on the man’s face and Jonathan caught a glimpse of the man he remembered from his childhood. The regal, always-in-control Estate Manager who’d taken charge of the lands with a firm but fair hand. In truth, Jonathan would do well to aspire to follow in his footsteps as much as in his own father’s.
“I thank you, Your Grace. I do admit it has been taxing, but it is good to have a Duke seated behind this grand desk once more.”
He departed, leaving Jonathan behind in the office that had been his father’s for so many years. With a sigh, Jonathan rose and decided to attend to matters of the estate.
* * *
Jonathan rode his beloved horse, Jora, through the forest, after paying a visit to his delinquent tenants. The shock had been great upon their faces when they saw the Duke. His father, while kind and diligent, had not often met with his tenants. On St. Stephan’s day he would take Jonathan and his older brother, Charles as well as their three sisters, Mary, Charlotte, and Lorraine, to hand out gifts, but that was the only time of year his tenants saw him face to face.
Jonathan intended to change that. The way of old often was not the right way. In fact, the incident at the ball last night had proven as much. He found it appalling that young ladies were expected to always maintain a pleasant countenance even when faced with such vile assaults as he’d witnessed yesterday. He truly hoped the young lady would keep her promise and stand up to these wenches next time.
He sighed and inhaled the fresh November air. The scent of pine cones lingered in the air. Oh, how he loved the forest. It was one thing he’d misse
d while in India, the chance to ride through the forest. He hadn’t done so in many years. The last time he could remember riding through these woods was just before he’d departed. He’d spent the afternoon with Eric and Thomas, as the forest connected all three of their estates.
By Jove! I am mere miles from Roselawn Manor. I shall ride there and inquire when Eric may return. Since my surprise did not work out, I may just as well let him know I am here. Yes. I will leave a message with Hector, their butler.
Jonathan rode out of the woods and into a clearing at the end of which rose the beautiful Roselawn Manor. Three stories tall, with beautiful statues perched along the roof, it was built during Queen Elizabeth’s reign and had an attractive charm that his estate, Chesterton Court, lacked.
Jonathan approached the house and halted his horse. He rushed up the steps to the front door and knocked. Shortly thereafter, a butler opened. Jonathan frowned for he did not recognize him. The old butler, a grumpy yet charming man named Hector had always cut an intimidating figure when he was but a boy. This new butler was younger, dressed in a crisp uniform and a stern expression upon his face. Of course, unlike Hector, he did not recognize him.
“Good morning,” he presented the butler with a calling card. Upon seeing his titled, the butler stood even straighter than he had before.
“Good morning, Your Grace. Lord Lincester is out of town unfortunately. He won’t return for another week.”
Jonathan nodded; it was no surprise. The Viscount, an investor in a chain of coffee houses, had always traveled for as long as he could remember.
“That is quite all right. I am aware the Viscount and Mister Gordon are out of town. I wondered whether you know when Mister Gordon might return.”
The butler nodded, “Mister Gordon shall be back this afternoon, should you like to call again.”
Jonathan grinned. This afternoon! What good fortune. He would indeed call again.
“That is wonderful news. Please let him know that I have returned and I shall be calling on him this very evening.” He paused as he did not know the butler’s name. He always prided himself at learning the names of the staff. “I do not believe I know your name. I was familiar with Hector, who used to be the butler here.”
The man stood; lips pressed together for a moment. “I am North. I was under butler when Your Grace was last here.”
“Good to meet you, North. Say, what has become of Hector? Is he retired?” North shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable.
“Hector has taken a position at Ludlow Manor. Has been there a good number of years.”
Jonathan’s eyes widened. Ludlow Manor was the home of Baron Balwick, Lord Lincester’s brother. It seemed rather unbelievable that Balwick had the audacity to poach his own brother’s butler. Quite the scandal, in fact.
He thanked North and returned to his horse which was being attended to by one of Lord Lincester’s footmen.
* * *
Jonathan rode along the main road toward home. He’d considered calling on Lady Conner but decided against it. He’d seen her at the ball very briefly yesterday, but she’d been engaged in conversation with an elder lady and he’d found it inappropriate to interrupt. He’d fully intended to return to inquire about Thomas’ whereabouts, but the encounter in the supper room had thoroughly taken up his time and attention.
Jonathan was so deep in thought that he hardly noticed the carriages and curricles that passed him until one came to a sudden stop behind him. He glanced back wondering why they had stopped in the middle of the road, when the door swung open and a man jumped out.
“Is it you?” a voice asked. He turned Jora around and rode toward the man who now rushed his way.
It couldn’t be! Or could it?
“Gordon? Is that you, old chum?”
“Of course, it is! Who else would be driving in my Father’s carriage?”
Jonathan jumped off his horse and ran toward his friend. He’d hardly recognized him. It had been four years since they last laid eyes on each other.
“Eric Gordon!” The two embraced and slapped each other on the back in greeting. Jonathan marveled at the changes in his friend. While he still had that youthful twinkle in his eyes, Eric Gordon had certainly grown up. There were a few faint laugh lines around his eyes and he was dressed rather dashingly.
“I knew it was you, old chum…” his friend stopped himself, “I mean, Your Grace.”
Jonathan grunted. “Please, do not call me Your Grace. You are my oldest friend. Call me by the name you’ve always called me.”
“I hardly think it’s appropriate to call the Duke of Ekhard ‘ye ole ninny’.”
Jonathan mock punched his friend in the shoulder.
“Zooks! There it is again. ‘Your Grace’. If you feel rather more comfortable, perhaps Ekhard will do?”
“Certainly. I could get used to that. Now, what are you doing here, riding in the middle of the road with your nose up in the air? Fancied a ride?”
Jonathan sighed heavily. “I had unpleasant business to attend to with my tenants. And then I paid a visit to Roselawn Manor to leave a message for you.”
Eric’s brown eyes grew wide. “What good fortune we ran into one another!”
“Indeed! I had a mind to surprise you and Thomas at yesterday’s ball at Curtstone Hall, but my surprise was spoiled as neither of you attended!”
“What a wonderful surprise it would have been! I have just returned from Bath. My Father had an important meeting with one of his business partners and I was required to attend. As you know, my Father is not the youngest and sooner or later I shall inherit the Viscountship, as well as his business ventures.”
Jonathan shook his head. “Business ventures. Things have changed. When I left it was still near unthinkable for a noble to be involved in trade. Trade! Can you imagine? Our grandfathers would turn in their graves.”
Eric laughed and nodded, “And yet, I recall a certain young Earl claiming that nobles becoming involved in business was the way of the future. And you were right.”
Jonathan nodded. He had indeed said so. He felt his merry mood at being reunited with his best friend sour however, at the mention of his former title. He had indeed been Earl of Rotham for most of his life, one of his father’s secondary titles. He’d expected to remain so until his older brother, Charles, took over the Dukedom. Of course, things had turned out differently than he’d imagined. Always perceptive, his friend placed an arm around his shoulder.
“You are rather Friday-faced all of a sudden. Let us not talk of the past. What do you say we meet tonight at Rover’s for a proper drink and welcome? You will have to make do with me, for Thomas is on a visit to London to meet with a matchmaker. He’s grown rather serious about finding a wife.”
Jonathan felt a smile return to his face. “TomTom? A married man? Things truly have changed. And he doesn’t wish to rely on Lady Conner to find the perfect woman for him? How rather perplexing.”
“Indeed! It is not as though Lady Conner has a brash, pushy nature about her. No! The very essence of patience and good taste she is.”
The two laughed together, as they had both had unpleasant encounters with Lady Conner, who was known to be opinionated and unyielding.
“Ah well, we shall reunite with him when he returns from London. In the meantime, I would quite enjoy a good wine with you. Oh, and perhaps a game of whist?”
“We shall! Now, I must excuse myself. I have to return home and refresh myself and then immediately depart once more. I am due to collect, or rather rescue, my Sister from Lady Conner’s supervision and return her to Roselawn with me.”
“Isolde? How is she? I have not seen her since she was a child.”
Eric shrugged, “She is well. Well, she was when I left her in Lady Conner’s care a week ago. In fact, she was at the ball last night, along with Lady Conner and Miss Brown and my Cousin...”
Jonathan raised his eyebrows.
“She was? I saw Lady Conner conversing wit
h an older lady, but I did not see your Sister, nor the other ladies.”
Eric shrugged, “Perhaps they were dancing. Or, knowing Isolde, she stole away to see the stables! You know how she loves the horses.”
“Indeed!” He smiled at the notion of little Miss Isolde Gordon. She’d been such a darling and gentle little girl. Shy and terrified to speak to him–but pleasant and sharp witted, if he remembered correctly. He’d taught her to ride many years ago.
“I shall collect you this night and we will properly celebrate your return! I cannot wait to show you my new phaeton! We shall get to Rover’s in but a blink of the eye! You shall see!”
With that, his friend departed. Jonathan felt his spirits greatly lifted. Having finally found his good friend made him almost forget the events of last night. And while he had vowed to not attend any more balls for the near future, a visit to a gentleman’s club promised to be quite enjoyable.
When he arrived at the crossroad which led to Chesterton Court, a carriage turned to pass him. The Coat of Arms on the side was faded and in need of attention. He narrowed his eyes to see if he could make out whose carriage it was when suddenly his gaze was drawn to the window. A young woman’s face was visible, though she appeared to be sleeping. Jonathan felt his mouth drop open. Her bonnet slightly obscured her face but he felt almost certain that he knew her.
By Jove! It is her! The young lady from the ball. It must be. I did not have hopes of seeing her again, and yet here she is.
He turned his head as the carriage passed him and drove away. Should he follow to inquire her name? Or would it be considered inappropriate? Certainly, chasing down a carriage in the middle of the road in order to obtain an occupant’s name might be scandalous. Yet, if he had hopes of seeing her again, he had no choice. Yes! He would do exactly that.
The Lost Countess That Counted Stars (Historical Regency Romance) Page 30