set things to rights around here. However, I have managed my family’s affairs for over twenty years. Fear not, I will remedy this situation.”
As rebuffs go, it wasn’t the harshest he’d ever delivered, but it was by far the hardest. Especially when she turned those expressive brown eyes on him, and he saw them flicker with hurt.
“Yes,” she said at last. “Yes, of course, you can. How silly of me to have thought otherwise.” She waved her hand toward the buckets. “You will have no further need of those by tomorrow.” She dropped into a curtsy. “When you are ready to discuss Jeffrey’s letters, please send for me. Good day, my lord.”
The finality of her farewell cut into the steel surrounding his heart. But he did not try to stop her. Instead, he bowed. “Again, my apologies for the disruption—”
The click of the door closing cut off his apology. He didn’t blame her. Not one bit. Although he had spent a lifetime perfecting the art of lying, nothing felt perfect about this situation. In fact, a sense of wrongness elbowed him in the gut with a pugilist’s precision.
***
August 11
“No, m’lord,” the farmer said, propping his shovel against the back wall of a small lean-to. “I explained what needs to be done to Mrs. Ashcroft. Haven’t the time to go into it again.”
Sebastian clenched his teeth around a curse. He had met with the same resistance all afternoon. Most of his tenants weren’t as vocal about their displeasure as Mr. Hayton, but all made sure Sebastian understood he would get nowhere without Mrs. Ashcroft’s assistance. The effects of Blake’s mismanagement ran deep in their minds, and they were not ready to forgive Sebastian.
“Mr. Hayton,” he tried again. “I mean to have men working on the repairs as early as next week. If you would take a few minutes to show me what needs attending, I’ll be able to provide a detailed list.”
The last time Sebastian had seen Hayton, a few strands of gray had striped the area above the old man’s ears. But he had always tackled each day with admirable enthusiasm, putting many men younger than he to shame. Now, Hayton sported a full head of gray hair and his normally square shoulders slumped forward as if they were too heavy for his frail body.
“The roof needs fixing now.” Mr. Hayton retrieved his pitchfork. “Rain’s coming. Waiting till next week’ll do me no good.”
Sebastian gathered Reaper’s reins. “I’ll do what I can to get someone here sooner.”
“Mrs. Ashcroft knows who to contact,” Mr. Hayton said, combing the pitchfork through a pile of soiled straw.
Sebastian set his jaw, not used to such willfulness and in no mood to hear yet another tenant touting the widow’s accomplishments. Mounting Reaper, he set off for home. He’d had enough for one day. He knew he had let them down by not ensuring the steward was performing his duties. However, flogging him in the face at every turn would not make him regret his inaction any more, or remedy the damage already done.
Over the course of the next fortnight, he would show them that he remembered how to be a competent landlord and pray they would allow him to repair the many wrongs done by Blake. As he rounded the farmer’s small cottage, Sebastian observed the thinning thatch on the northeast corner of the roof. At least he’d persuaded the stubborn old goat to mention that much.
“Good afternoon, Lord Somerton,” a man’s voice hailed from the road.
Sebastian turned to find Showbury’s vicar sitting astride a large chestnut, a welcoming smile on his face. “Mr. Foster.” He joined the other man on the rutted drive, making note of the deep tracks and adding them to his growing list of tasks. “What brings you out this far?”
“I’m meeting Mrs. Ashcroft at the McCarthys to check on the eldest daughter.” The vicar guided his horse around a large hole in the middle of the road. “All of sixteen and on her way to becoming a new mother.” He shook his head. “And the father nowhere to be found.”
Sebastian’s lips thinned at the mention of the widow. “Does the girl have anyone to help when the babe arrives?”
The vicar sent him an approving smile. “Indeed, my lord. Despite her current predicament, Meghan’s a fine young lady and the McCarthys are good people.”
“Do you and Mrs. Ashcroft work together often?”
“Oh, yes, my lord,” the vicar said. “I find Mrs. Ashcroft’s assistance and practical nature invaluable. And Showbury’s residents admire and