Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Thank you for the walk, my lord,” Tricia said as they neared the terrace. “I trust you will enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Thank you, my lady. I indeed hope to,” he replied.
The stroll had been amenable, though Patricia was just as glad it was over. When Polk left her and Lady Clementine at the door, he bowed, removing his hat.
“Tonight is the second ball of the house party,” Lord Polk said. “I do hope you’ll save me a dance, Lady Patricia.”
Tricia bowed her head. “Of course, my lord. It would be my honor.”
Lord Polk was a fine dancer. As was Mr. Jameson. Thomas was fine at many other things, but she knew nothing of his dancing skills. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She had seen him dancing with every other woman but her at the ball, and he had seemed quite proficient.
“Come, Tricia,” Lady Clementine said, “it will be time for luncheon soon.”
Tricia was already a bit hungry.
“Do you fancy that gentleman?” her mother asked her as they walked up the stairs to get cleaned up for luncheon.
Tricia sighed. “Not really.”
“Good,” her mother said. “He’s a nice-looking young man, and I’m sure he has an allowance from his father’s estate, but I cannot get past the fact that he and that cousin of Thomas’s tried to get you to go on a stroll with the both of them last evening. It was so improper.”
Tricia resisted rolling her eyes. “Yes, Mummy. I know what you think of the matter.”
Lady Clementine raised an eyebrow. “You should have thought the same thing, Tricia.”
Indeed, she did. But she could hardly tell her mother that she had been reading The Perils of Portia in The Ruby, and that Portia herself had two lovers, so Tricia was a bit curious. Not so much about being with two men at the same time, but perhaps about strolling with them, at least. Having two men attending her.
It would have been…
Blimey, it would have been nothing.
Because neither of those men were Thomas.
Lily sat straight up, holding back a yawn. She was having an early lunch with Viscountess Polk.
Lady Polk was going on and on about some such thing. Her needlepoint craft, her knitting. Her newest piece on the pianoforte.
Which was a laugh, of course, because the viscountess could not play the pianoforte worth a damn.
Lily had grown up with Rose, who had quite a talent for the instrument. When she and Daniel visited the Polk Estate, she had to keep from wincing while the viscountess entertained them on the pianoforte.
What Lily really needed was to get her to drink a bit of wine.
In vino veritas and all.
But that couldn’t happen until the dinner hour, and Lily would be seated at the head table with Daniel.
So she did something wicked.
She pulled a small flat flask out of her reticule.
It was filled with a lovely brandy. Lily didn’t indulge a lot, but she enjoyed a good brandy with Daniel every now and then.
“What is that, Your Grace?” the viscountess queried.
“Would you care for a nip?” Lily poured a bit of the amber liquid into her water glass.
The viscountess raised her eyebrows. “Oh my, I shouldn’t. Hawthorne would have a fit.”
Lily smiled deviously. “Viscountess, I don’t believe Hawthorne is here.”
A small smile cracked the viscountess’s lips. “’Tis true.”
Lily poured a bit more brandy into the viscountess’s glass. “That’s a lovely brooch you’re wearing, my lady. Do tell me about it.”
28
Thomas sighed as he read through the legal boundaries of his estate and the Polks’. Border and water disputes between two neighboring estates were not uncommon, given the importance of land and natural resources for agriculture and estate management. These disputes often arose from ambiguities in land titles, inheritance issues, or conflicting uses of natural resources like water.
But the Ashford Estate was an old estate, much older than the Polk estate, and the borders had been well established for centuries. While water could be an issue depending on the weather and climate from year to year, Thomas could not recall ever hearing of these issues from his father. Indeed, natural landmarks partially defined the border on the north of the Ashford Estate, which divided it from the Polk land. While some historical documents were vague, the ones in Thomas’s possession were very clear with regard to shared water sources, encroachments, and inheritance and succession.
Thomas could find nothing out of place.
Still, he scurried through the office, looking for something, anything, that would give him some clue as to what might have been happening between his father and the Polk Estate. Rather, why it had happened, as the water and border issues were clearly a ruse.
And what exactly might Jonathan Jameson have to do with it?
As far as Thomas knew, his uncle, the late Pembroke Jameson, had done exceedingly well in the Americas with his investment in gemstone mines. Indeed, Jonathan himself wore a gaudy ring containing a large ruby on his right index finger, and another, this one with sapphires and slightly less gaudy, on the pinky of his left hand. Thomas assumed these stones came from the mines partially owned by Jonathan’s family. Or rather Jonathan himself at this point, as his mother and father were both deceased and he was an only child.