Cold-Hearted Rake
Page 23
Devon bowed, his face inscrutable. He appeared relaxed at first glance, but a closer look revealed faint shadows beneath his eyes, and finespun tension beneath his calm veneer. “I hope you’re well this morning,” he said quietly.
Her blush deepened uncomfortably. “Yes, thank you.” She curtsied and wove her fingers together in a stiff knot. “You wished to discuss something before you depart?”
“Yes, regarding the estate, I’ve come to some conclusions —”
“I do hope —” she began, and broke off. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to —”
“Go on.”
Kathleen dropped her gaze to her clenched hands as she spoke. “My lord, if you decide to dismiss any of the servants… or indeed all of them… I hope you take into account that some have served the Ravenels for their entire lives. Perhaps you might consider giving small parting sums to the oldest ones who have little hope of securing other employment.”
“I’ll bear it in mind.”
She could feel him looking at her, his gaze as tangible as the heat of sunlight. The mahogany bracket clock on the mantel measured out the silence with delicate ticks.
His voice was soft. “You’re nervous with me.”
“After yesterday —” She broke off and swallowed hard, and nodded.
“No one but the two of us will ever know about that.”
Even if Kathleen chose to believe him, it didn’t set her at ease. The memory was an unwanted bond with him. He had seen her at her weakest, her lowest, and she would have preferred him to be mocking rather than treat her with gentleness.
She forced herself to meet his gaze as she admitted with vexed honesty, “It’s easier to think of you as an adversary.”
Devon smiled faintly. “That puts us in an awkward situation, then, as I’ve decided against selling the estate.”
Kathleen was too astonished to reply. She couldn’t believe it. Had she heard him correctly?
“Eversby Priory’s situation is so desperate,” Devon continued, “that few men could conceivably make it worse. Of course, I’m probably one of them.” He gestured to a pair of chairs positioned near the writing desk. “Will you sit with me?”
She nodded, her thoughts racing as she settled into the chair. Yesterday he had seemed so resolved – there had been no doubt that he would dispense with the estate and all its problems as expediently as possible.
After she had arranged her skirts and folded her hands in her lap, she sent him a wondering gaze. “May I ask what caused you to change your mind, my lord?”
Devon was slow to reply, his expression troubled. “I’ve tried to think of every reason why I should wash my hands of this place. But I keep returning to the conclusion that I owe it to every man, woman, and child on this estate to try and save the estate. Eversby Priory has been the work of generations. I can’t destroy it.”
“I think that’s a very admirable decision,” she said with a hesitant smile.
His mouth twisted. “My brother calls it vanity. He predicts failure, of course.”
“Then I’ll be the counterbalance,” she said impulsively, “and predict success.”
Devon gave her an alert glance, and he dazzled her with a quick grin. “Don’t put money on it,” he advised. The smile faded except for a lingering quirk at one corner of his mouth. “I kept waking during the night,” he said, “arguing with myself. But then it occurred to me to wonder what my father would have done, had he lived long enough to find himself in my position.”
“He would have saved the estate?”
“No, he wouldn’t have considered it for a second.” Devon laughed shortly. “It’s safe to say that doing the opposite of what my father would have done is always the right choice.”
Kathleen regarded him with sympathy. “Did he drink?” she dared to ask.
“He did everything. And if he liked it, he did it to excess. A Ravenel through and through.”
She nodded, thinking of Theo. “It has occurred to me,” she ventured, “that the family temperament isn’t well suited to stewardship.”
Amusement glinted in his eyes. “Speaking as a man who has the family temperament in full measure, I agree. I wish I could claim to have a mother from steady, pragmatic stock, to balance out the Ravenel wildness. Unfortunately she was worse.”
“Worse?” Kathleen asked, her eyes widening. “She had a temper?”
“No, but she was unstable. Flighty. It’s no exaggeration to say there were days at a time when she forgot she even had children.”
“My parents were very attentive and involved,” Kathleen volunteered after a moment. “As long as you were a horse.”
Devon smiled. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his legs, dropping his head for a moment. The posture was far too casual to affect in the presence of a lady, but it revealed how very tired he was. And overwhelmed. For the first time, Kathleen felt a stirring of genuine sympathy for him. It wasn’t fair that a man should have to contend with so many dire problems all at once, without warning or preparation.
“There’s another matter I need to discuss,” he said eventually, sitting up again. “I can’t, in good conscience, turn Theo’s sisters out of the only home they’ve ever known.” One of his brows arched as he saw her expression. “Yes, I have a conscience. It’s been abused and neglected for years, but even so, it occasionally manages to be a nuisance.”
Her blush deepened uncomfortably. “Yes, thank you.” She curtsied and wove her fingers together in a stiff knot. “You wished to discuss something before you depart?”
“Yes, regarding the estate, I’ve come to some conclusions —”
“I do hope —” she began, and broke off. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to —”
“Go on.”
Kathleen dropped her gaze to her clenched hands as she spoke. “My lord, if you decide to dismiss any of the servants… or indeed all of them… I hope you take into account that some have served the Ravenels for their entire lives. Perhaps you might consider giving small parting sums to the oldest ones who have little hope of securing other employment.”
“I’ll bear it in mind.”
She could feel him looking at her, his gaze as tangible as the heat of sunlight. The mahogany bracket clock on the mantel measured out the silence with delicate ticks.
His voice was soft. “You’re nervous with me.”
“After yesterday —” She broke off and swallowed hard, and nodded.
“No one but the two of us will ever know about that.”
Even if Kathleen chose to believe him, it didn’t set her at ease. The memory was an unwanted bond with him. He had seen her at her weakest, her lowest, and she would have preferred him to be mocking rather than treat her with gentleness.
She forced herself to meet his gaze as she admitted with vexed honesty, “It’s easier to think of you as an adversary.”
Devon smiled faintly. “That puts us in an awkward situation, then, as I’ve decided against selling the estate.”
Kathleen was too astonished to reply. She couldn’t believe it. Had she heard him correctly?
“Eversby Priory’s situation is so desperate,” Devon continued, “that few men could conceivably make it worse. Of course, I’m probably one of them.” He gestured to a pair of chairs positioned near the writing desk. “Will you sit with me?”
She nodded, her thoughts racing as she settled into the chair. Yesterday he had seemed so resolved – there had been no doubt that he would dispense with the estate and all its problems as expediently as possible.
After she had arranged her skirts and folded her hands in her lap, she sent him a wondering gaze. “May I ask what caused you to change your mind, my lord?”
Devon was slow to reply, his expression troubled. “I’ve tried to think of every reason why I should wash my hands of this place. But I keep returning to the conclusion that I owe it to every man, woman, and child on this estate to try and save the estate. Eversby Priory has been the work of generations. I can’t destroy it.”
“I think that’s a very admirable decision,” she said with a hesitant smile.
His mouth twisted. “My brother calls it vanity. He predicts failure, of course.”
“Then I’ll be the counterbalance,” she said impulsively, “and predict success.”
Devon gave her an alert glance, and he dazzled her with a quick grin. “Don’t put money on it,” he advised. The smile faded except for a lingering quirk at one corner of his mouth. “I kept waking during the night,” he said, “arguing with myself. But then it occurred to me to wonder what my father would have done, had he lived long enough to find himself in my position.”
“He would have saved the estate?”
“No, he wouldn’t have considered it for a second.” Devon laughed shortly. “It’s safe to say that doing the opposite of what my father would have done is always the right choice.”
Kathleen regarded him with sympathy. “Did he drink?” she dared to ask.
“He did everything. And if he liked it, he did it to excess. A Ravenel through and through.”
She nodded, thinking of Theo. “It has occurred to me,” she ventured, “that the family temperament isn’t well suited to stewardship.”
Amusement glinted in his eyes. “Speaking as a man who has the family temperament in full measure, I agree. I wish I could claim to have a mother from steady, pragmatic stock, to balance out the Ravenel wildness. Unfortunately she was worse.”
“Worse?” Kathleen asked, her eyes widening. “She had a temper?”
“No, but she was unstable. Flighty. It’s no exaggeration to say there were days at a time when she forgot she even had children.”
“My parents were very attentive and involved,” Kathleen volunteered after a moment. “As long as you were a horse.”
Devon smiled. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his legs, dropping his head for a moment. The posture was far too casual to affect in the presence of a lady, but it revealed how very tired he was. And overwhelmed. For the first time, Kathleen felt a stirring of genuine sympathy for him. It wasn’t fair that a man should have to contend with so many dire problems all at once, without warning or preparation.
“There’s another matter I need to discuss,” he said eventually, sitting up again. “I can’t, in good conscience, turn Theo’s sisters out of the only home they’ve ever known.” One of his brows arched as he saw her expression. “Yes, I have a conscience. It’s been abused and neglected for years, but even so, it occasionally manages to be a nuisance.”
