The Two Lords of Wealdhant Manor (11 page)

Patting the documents in his breast pocket, Jasper turned back toward town. Algernon would have to return to London. Whatever might have been between them was no longer relevant. Algernon had sided with the railway, and had to go.

F
rustrated and unhappy
, Algernon spent two days pacing around the house and fuming about Jasper’s behaviour.

He knew that he’d been harsh by throwing the “Lord of Wealdhant” title in Jasper’s face, but Jasper seemed to think that Algernon had some authority or influence when it came to the railway.

Every time Algernon looked at one of the copies they’d made of the route they’d proposed, all he could think of were Mr. Sutton’s implications upon their first meeting: Algernon would only be allowed to keep the safety and income of Wealdhant as long as he was willing to play along with the railway’s ambitions.

At the time, it hadn’t occurred to him to inquire further into the details of his supposed claim and how it might or might not be rescinded if he crossed the railway company. He hadn’t wanted to look his gift horse in the mouth. But if it was a choice between his own future or the future of Wilston, Algernon thought that he should understand as much as he could about his current situation.

His research capabilities at the manor were limited, since the scientific shelves of the library were mostly devoted to bird-watching and local flora, and the steam engine had been no more than a wild theory last time the library had been in use. There was, however, a substantial portion of the library given to matters of law, and Algernon did his best to plow through the dense Stuart era law texts available on the topics of inheritance, particularly when heirs were missing or nonexistent.

Mr. Cullen brought him tea and sandwiches and hovered nearby to see that he ate them. “Any progress, sir?”

“Only in the most general sense.” Algernon sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, surprised to see that a tray of sandwiches had appeared at his elbow. “I don’t know what half these terms mean, and a third of it is in Latin. But, this section does refer to
bona vacantia
, which applies to Wealdhant while it was empty, and covers the process by which land
escheats
—reverts back to—the Crown, since technically the Crown is the underlying owner of all land in England, and may bestow or reclaim such lands at, ah,
jura regalia
—the King’s discretion.”

Sighing, Algernon pushed the book away and took up a sandwich. “Latin gives me a headache.”

Mr. Cullen turned the book around and considered the tightly printed letters on the page. “This book is from 1702.”

“Oh, don’t remind me, Cullen. Half my research is to no avail, since the laws may well have changed in the past hundred and forty years since these miserable books were written.” He waved his hand vaguely. “We are probably dealing with a case of
propter defectum sanguinis
, wherein all of the heirs die, except that the three daughters
can’t
have died if I’m descended from Tabitha, and it can’t be
propter derelictum tenetis
—wherein the bloodline is considered tainted due to some crime or treachery of the patriarch—or someone would have noticed that there was a perfectly claimable estate sitting about. It seems to be a case wherein the heirs just… up and left without notice, and this damned ruin is remote enough that no one much cared. I have no idea what the legal term is for
that
.”

Mr. Cullen took the book away from him. “If I may suggest, sir, perhaps you should consider leaving the house for a walk. Some air might do you good.”

Reaching for the law book, Algernon sighed and redirected his hand toward his tea cup. “You are right, Mr. Cullen. Besides which, there is a bookshop in town. I might well see if they have any books of law on hand. If not, I’ll need to hie myself to Lincoln or London to make any further progress.”

“Very good, sir,” Mr. Cullen said. He set the book down out of Algernon’s reach.

Algernon scowled at him and took another bite of his sandwich. “I don’t suppose you have any word of Jasper?”

“I believe that Mr. Waltham is responsible for the repairs to the front gate of the estate. Aside from that, sir, no. I’ve heard nothing of your friend.”

“I don’t know if we are friends, Cullen.” Algernon sighed unhappily, resting his chin on his hand. “The railway is between us and I do not dare cross Mr. Sutton unless I know there is no chance of him depositing me in a debtor’s prison for my trouble. And if Jasper and I remain on opposing sides, we cannot help but fight.”

“My sympathies, sir,” Mr. Cullen said.

Algernon wrinkled his nose. “I know you too well, Mr. Cullen. I know perfectly well that you are thinking I ought to develop a taste for less obstinate lovers.”

“I would never express such a sentiment, sir,” Mr. Cullen said, but his lips twitched.

“Fiddle. You would and have.” Algernon smiled despite himself, very slightly cheered. “I fear, Mr. Cullen, that I do indeed rather
enjoy
fighting with Jasper.”

Mr. Cullen’s lips twitched again. “Perish the thought.”

“That is…” Algernon said, and thought about it while he finished his sandwich. “That is, I enjoy the quarrelling bit when it ends in kissing. And I do think that it might more often end in kissing if we weren’t both worried about the fates of Wilston and—well, in my case, my self. And you. Although I suppose you might find other employment easily enough if only you would go on and abandon me if things go sidledywry.”

“Go for a walk, sir,” Mr. Cullen advised, pouring him another cup of tea.

“Oh! Yes, I shall.” Algernon quaffed the tea at a gulp and got to his feet, taking only a few essential papers with him as he headed out of the library. Mr. Cullen followed, supplying him with overcoat and hat and shooing him out the door.

The sun was shining through a veil of clouds, but the air was still crisp and cold with a cutting breeze from the East. Algernon leaned into it and winced as he headed Southeast down the manor drive.

The gate was repaired. It still looked the worse for wear, but the weeds choking it had been cleared away and the loose hinge re-attached to the stone pillar.

Algernon paused in front of the gate. Jasper did excellent work, but his devotion was to Wealdhant, not to Algernon.

The stone figures upon the gate pillars seemed to be griffins after all. Weathered and crumbling, they gazed south across the moors. “What shall I do about our Lord Jasper?” Algernon asked one of them.

Only the icy wind answered him, and Algernon pulled his collar up against it.

It wasn’t far to Wilston, but the bite of precipitation on the wind quickly had Algernon regretting that he hadn’t taken his horse. Quickening his pace, he headed straight for the little bookshop and sighed at the shelter and relative warmth within.

The bookshop was a crowded old ruin of a shop, with books crammed in every which way. On the tables near the front, Algernon saw neat little piles of new releases from London, some of them by authors he recognised, while the shelves along the walls were lined with texts nearly as old as the library of Wealdhant.

“G’day, Mr. Clarke!” said the bookshop owner, a hunched old man nearly as dusty as his books.

Algernon smiled at him in greeting. “Good day, Mr. Allen.”

“Those new books at the front are priced a penny each. A penny, can you imagine! Don’t know how they price ‘em so cheap.”

“Oh, it’s the new steam-powered rotary presses!” Algernon said at once, picking up one of the books. “Brand new, only a few of the booksellers have them yet, but they can put out hundreds—perhaps thousands?—of books per day with this new method. It relies upon setting printing plates upon a cylinder, and then—”

Mr. Allen’s blank stare indicated that he might not find the latest advances in technology quite as fascinating as Algernon did.

Algernon cleared his throat and returned his eyes to the page. “Penny a book, yes,” he responded, leafing through the book. “Do you suppose that means people will buy four or five times the amount of books? I wonder if anyone can read that much. I imagine the novels published each year will increase exponentially, don’t you think?”

“Were you looking for anything in particular, Mr. Clarke?” the bookshop owner asked.

“Ah. Um.” Algernon ducked his head sheepishly. “Anything on inheritance and property law, with a particular interest in railways.”

Mr. Allen squinted at him, then jerked his thumb. “Near the back, to the left. Don’t know all what I have, not many people interested in books on railway law.”

“You’d really think they should be,” Algernon said, heading toward the indicated wall of books. “Railway lines will change all our lives. I think it’s exciting—railroads and printing presses! We live in such a time of technological advancement, Mr. Allen!”

Mr. Allen seemed to be ignoring him.

Grimacing, Algernon turned his attention to the books.

As Mr. Allen had said, there wasn’t much selection to be had, but there were a few books on trains and their impact and importance in England. He picked Hebert’s
Treatise on Railroads and Locomotion,
Mathew Carey’s
Essay on Railroads,
and William Galt’s
Railway Reform: Its Expediency and Practicability,
and had just settled upon William Hayes’
The Law of Real Property
over Giles Jacob’s
Rudiments of the Law
when the bookshop door opened and the bell drew his attention.

Jasper stood in the doorway, frozen in place at the sight of Algernon.

Algernon tried a smile upon him and received a cold frown in return.

Shutting the door, Jasper nodded gruff greetings at the bookshop owner and made his way over to the table of new releases. Algernon watched with interest as Jasper leafed through the available books.

“Are you fond of novels?” Algernon asked, taking his little stack of books along as he went over to try and make peace with his friend.

Jasper seemed far less interested in making peace. “Yes,” he answered, not even bothering to look up.

Hurt, Algernon scowled at him. “I wouldn’t have thought you much of a reader.”

That earned a glare, which was not at all an improvement. “What, because I am rural or because you find me stupid?”

Algernon coughed and attempted to remedy his affront. “I did not realise rural bookshops would be so well-stocked.”

“We country-folk can read as well as any Londoners,” Jasper said, returning his attention to the books.

Algernon turned the stack in his hands so that Jasper might see the titles, which was to no avail since Jasper had returned to not looking at him.

Annoyed, Algernon huffed at him. “See here, Jasper. Do you intend to spend your life pretending I do not exist?”

“Preferably,” Jasper said. “Go back to London, Mr. Clarke.”

“Mr. Waltham,” Algernon said, angered by Jasper’s icy demeanour, “I think you are being entirely uncivil.”

Jasper ignored him.

Algernon had no idea how to counter this blank coldness from Jasper. It seemed as though Jasper had determined that there was no further hope at all for their friendship.

Even Jasper’s temper was preferable to this Cut Indirect. Algernon was tempted to attempt further insult to see if Jasper’s temper might be raised, but he could not do so in front of Mr. Allen without gross breach of etiquette.

Frustrated, Algernon slammed his little stack of books down in front of Mr. Allen, paid, and left the shop without another word.

A
lgernon curled
up by the window in his room while he read William Galt’s
Railway Reform: Its Expediency and Practicability.
The book’s arguments were already out of date due to the enacted reforms of the Parliamentary Carriages required to run on every railway line, but it was still deeply informative to Algernon regarding the overall status of locomotion in England.

His thumb strummed along the edges of the paper as his gaze kept wandering toward the window. His bedroom window looked out across the gardens to the north, and he had chosen to sit where he could look northeast toward the gardener’s cottage.

In the light of the setting sun, the gardens were glowing red-gold above and pooled with low shadows below. Jasper’s work was beautiful, with a wildness to his taste that made the gardens seem almost fae. When Jasper had taken him on the tour of the grounds, he had prioritised taking Algernon to the orchard and the vegetable garden. Algernon regretted that he hadn’t ever insisted on a tour of the ornamental gardens during their brief period of harmony.

There was no reason for Jasper to maintain the ornamental gardens. The orchard and the vegetable gardens would be work enough, in addition to what he did to oversee the village. His work in the ornamental gardens could only be an artistic outpouring. The hedges weren’t shaped according to fashion and the paths were set with heavy flagstones rather than the white gravel that was fashionable for gardens, but there was something arresting about the arrangement between the cursory pruning of the hedges and the thick growth of what Algernon suspected to be rose bushes.

He wondered how Jasper had felt the first time he’d seen it from this window, where he could see the entire composition at once and the exquisite wildness of it.

Algernon wondered what flowers Jasper favoured best in his garden.

Little though it mattered, if Jasper wouldn’t speak to him.

Jasper’s behaviour didn’t make sense. If Jasper had been frustrated or bored with their romance, Algernon could have understood that. The trouble with the railway remained between them, and Algernon understood that, too. But Jasper had always earnestly endeavoured to get Algernon to aid him, and now he hadn’t even asked whether Algernon had sent the revised plans to Mr. Sutton.

Mr. Sutton was due to arrive in only a few days, and Algernon still didn’t have the information he needed. He didn’t have any information about his own ancestry other than what Mr. Sutton had provided, which left him with no protection against the railway’s hinted threat to depose him.

“I don’t suppose you care,” Algernon muttered to the still air within the house, letting his head thud against the ancient wooden planking of the walls. “And I’m certain you don’t even know what a railway is, but if I could solidify my claim, and if Jasper would help me and trust me, I think… I might… I
might
be able to come up with a solution that would be good for Wilston.”