The Two Lords of Wealdhant Manor (8 page)

“I mean from Phoebe.”

Jasper gathered up his hat and went to hang it by the door rather than immediately answering her.

He returned a minute later. “I suppose you may tell Phoebe.”

“Are you enamoured of him?”

“I hardly know him,” Jasper said, unbuttoning his overcoat and hanging it by the fire.

“Do you suppose that you will become enamoured of him?”

Jasper straightened his overcoat with exacting care, far more so than he usually would. “I don’t know, Ginny. If he is honest, and an ally, I suppose I might grow to care for him. But I fear, very deeply, that he or his associates with the railway may mean ill for Wilston.”

T
he gate was
in worse shape than Jasper had anticipated.

He had begun clearing, in large handfuls, the dry, dead weeds and vines which choked the gate. Everything was covered in several inches of wet, half-melted snow, and the sky kept spitting frozen gusts of rain. The mottled cloud cover allowed a scattering of rays of sunlight to pierce through, suggesting that it might clear into a sunny day. He continued tearing at the weeds despite growing colder and wetter.

His sisters would scold at him for trying to catch his death of cold. Algernon might do the same, now that they were three days into their uncertain intimacy.

Algernon continued to act the lord of the manor, sought Jasper’s input on minor decisions, and avoided discussing any major ones.

Jasper yanked at a clinging length of vine, which came away with a snap as one of the delicate ornamental cast-iron flowers broke off. Guilt rushed through him, and he looked around to make certain that no one had seen. Wealdhant was his responsibility, and here he had just damaged it due to irritability and pique.

More careful now, he extricated the flower from the vine, and tucked it into his pocket. He didn’t know how to repair such a thing, knowing very little about blacksmithing, and hadn’t yet decided whether he should mention the incident to Algernon.

“Excuse me.”

Jasper twitched.

The voice belonged to a young mail carrier with a hand on his bag. “You from the manor?” the boy asked.

Jasper nodded. “I am.”

Satisfied with that answer, and visibly desirous of not making the further wet, cold trek up the manor drive, the boy fished in his satchel and handed over a letter. “You’ll give that to Mr. Clarke, then, will you?”

“I will.”

Duty fulfilled, the boy scampered off the way that he’d come. Jasper hoped, for his sake, that there was a warm fire and hot tea in the mail-boy’s future.

He looked at the envelope in his hand, which read:

It was some comfort that neither the letter nor the mail carrier had referred to Algernon as the lord of the manor.

Tucking the envelope into his other pocket, Jasper turned toward Wealdhant. He decided it would be best not to mention the broken ornament from the gate, which might make him seem clumsy or incompetent, and Algernon hardly needed any further reasons to think of Jasper as an ignorant rural brute. If he took the ornament into town, he might be able to arrange to have the gate discreetly repaired.

Letting himself in, Jasper looked first for Algernon in the ground-floor study. He found him with chin in hands, gazing vacantly at his paperwork. The cat which Jasper had gotten him was napping upon another stack of paperwork.

Algernon brightened at the sight of his lover. “Jasper!”

“That mouser looks productive,” Jasper said.

The cat stretched sleepily and blinked up at him.

“I’ve named him Tamburlaine.” Algernon looked very pleased with himself and reached out to toy with the cat’s paw.

“It’s a female cat.”

“Oh!” Algernon sat up straight and considered this. “Well, Tamburlaine anyhow, I suppose.”

“It’s a cat, it doesn’t need a name.”

“Of course it needs a name! What do you call your pets, simply by their species?”

This whole conversation seemed excessively silly to Jasper. “I haven’t got any pets.”

“What, you haven’t ever?” Algernon huffed. “That explains quite a bit.”

Jasper tossed the letter onto his desk and then bent over it to claim Algernon’s lips. Winding a hand into Algernon’s soft, dark hair, Jasper held him in place as they kissed.

His heart thudded.

When the kiss broke, Algernon’s dark eyes lingered on his face, and Jasper felt a confused little spike of guilt.

If Algernon was his lover, then he was welcome in Wealdhant. If Algernon had to stay, and if he had to have possession of Wealdhant, then if Jasper possessed Algernon as a lover, he would possess some control over Wealdhant.

Tightening his hand in Algernon’s hair, Jasper kissed him forcefully.

Algernon fought him for every inch, grabbing Jasper by his lapels and hauling him farther forward over the desk. The little sounds he made—of both pleasure and determination—rang in Jasper’s ears and made Jasper want to take him apart and claim him utterly. He wanted to entangle his life and his heart with Algernon, and to forge something lasting.

Dangerous, since Algernon still had far too much control over Wealdhant’s fate.

Jasper suddenly pulled away and turned his back. Sitting on the edge of the desk, he picked up a paperweight and toyed with it as though Algernon himself was almost beneath his concern.

Algernon made an irritated noise.

Jasper’s lips twitched. “What’s in the letter?”

“What letter? Oh!”

The heavy paper rasped in Algernon’s hands as he opened it.

Jasper ran his thumb along the back of the heavy bronze paperweight in his hand. It was shaped like an elephant. Jasper had no idea whether the trinket belonged to Wealdhant or whether it had come with Algernon from London. He set it back down to watch Algernon read.

Algernon’s face showed mixed guilt and concern.

Tensing, Jasper glowered at him. “What is it?”

Algernon put on a fake smile and set down the letter, face-down. “Word from London. It seems that my claim is nearly finalised. Only a few loose ends to tie up. Should be confirmed within a week or two, and then everything will be settled.”

Jasper snatched the letter from him.

Yelping, Algernon made a grab for it, but Jasper turned his back again, reading quickly.

Algernon stormed around the side of his desk.

Holding the letter behind his back, Jasper glared him down.

“Give it back,” Algernon insisted.

“Why? What’s in here that you don’t want me to see?”

“It’s nothing, Jasper!”

“If it’s nothing,” Jasper said, “you won’t mind me seeing it.”

“Have you no respect for a man’s privacy when it comes to his correspondence? This is very domineering of you, Jasper.”

The scolding felt manipulative, and Jasper bristled. “I have very little respect for your handling of such matters as concern the lives and livelihood of the inhabitants of Wilston, myself included. If I’m to trust you, then tell me honestly what in the letter made you look so guilty.”

Algernon grimaced and looked away, conceding the point. “Read it.”

Keeping an eye on him to make certain he had no intention of making a grab for the letter, Jasper resumed reading.

Jasper threw the letter at him. “You little serpent!”

Startled by the vehemence of Jasper’s reaction, Algernon caught the letter and stumbled backward.

“You let me think that you would work with me,” Jasper raged, “that you would allow some collaboration and compromise between us, but I see you have already resolved your course with that deplorable Mr. Sutton.”

“See here,” Algernon snapped, advancing on him and puffing his chest in the way he did when he was trying to use his height to intimidate. “I’ve made quite clear to you that the railway is inevitable. It’s as good as done, Jasper.”

“And all you had to do was to take any
recalcitrant villagers
in hand? I can imagine who he meant by that! And a fine job you’ve done of it, too. Turning my head with kisses so that I wouldn’t stir up any trouble?”

Algernon’s eyes lit with fury. “You kissed me first!”

“I regret it already!”

Pricked with temptation to lash out, Jasper turned and strode halfway across the study to put some space between them.

Algernon remained quiet.

“You cannot do this,” Jasper said at last. “Particularly not by that marked route! It would cut through half of the estate’s best forest and farmland, and would necessitate demolishing three farmhouses which have stood for two hundred years! You cannot simply sign away the lands that belong to Wealdhant.”

“I can,” Algernon said through gritted teeth, furious at the dismissive tone Jasper used with him. “And I shall. You may drag your heels all you please, Jasper, but I am the legal heir to Wealdhant, and there is nothing you can do about that.”

Jasper whipped around to face him. “Oh, we shall see about that.”

A
lgernon recoiled
in surprise from the cold determination in Jasper’s tone, but his surprise only lasted for a moment before he was straight back to being frustrated with Jasper’s ridiculous ox-headedness.

“You stubborn brute!” Algernon exclaimed. “You’re so afraid of change, any change, that you will stand in the path of the train and let it run you down before you will step aside.”

“This is my home,” Jasper said, making a visible effort to calm his temper. “I have lived here all my life, and it is my responsibility to see to the lands and people of this estate.”

“Of course, my Lord Jasper,” Algernon drawled, and cut a bow. “Forgive me for questioning your authority.”

Jasper’s eyes flashed. “Don’t call me that!”

“Aren’t you, though?” Algernon had had quite enough of pandering to Jasper’s whims. “The disenfranchised lord of the haunted ruin. How very romantic. Do you have some family story of how the mighty house of Waltham has fallen? Or is it merely that your family has always been groundskeepers, and you are the groundskeeper who thinks he’s a lord?”

Snarling, Jasper advanced on him. Algernon stood his ground, willing to resort to fisticuffs if need be.

“My family is none of your concern,” said Jasper. “And I am not as pathetic as you, the usurping London dandy who wants to play at being a landowner. At least I have some dignity about it.”

“I am not a usurper, you… damned…
recalcitrant villager
!”

“You spoiled coxcomb!”

“You petty, ignorant rustic!”

The door to the study slammed open. Both of them jumped.

Mr. Cullen stood on the threshold looking positively livid. With cold, contained fury, he shut the door and advanced upon them with a terrifying sort of dignity. “Mr. Waltham, I believe it is time for you to leave.”

Algernon wondered how it was that Mr. Cullen managed to have so much authority and dignity, which he thoughtfully limited to use only on topics such as Algernon’s drinking, gambling, or getting into shouting matches with handsome, obstinate locals.

Folding his arms, Algernon lowered his gaze, letting Mr. Cullen handle the situation. “Good day, Mr. Waltham,” Algernon said.

Mr. Cullen showed him out.

Algernon sank down on the edge of the desk, feeling that maybe he was, after all, a bit of a spoiled coxcomb.

Within a minute, Mr. Cullen reappeared. “Are you quite well, sir?”

“Yes, Cullen. You needn’t have interfered.” Algernon sighed, more annoyed with himself than with anyone else.

“It sounded as though you might come to blows.”

“Yes.” Algernon wrinkled his nose. “That was becoming increasingly likely. Blows or, ah—”

Algernon cleared his throat and left the statement unfinished.

“I don’t suppose you’ll ever take an interest in less tempestuous romantic interests, sir?”

Algernon smiled wryly. “Seems unlikely.”

Taking a deep breath, Mr. Cullen sat beside him on the edge of the desk.

Chewing at his lip as he thought over his mistakes, Algernon looked over at his butler. “Speaking of less tempestuous romantic interests…”

“Don’t start.”

“I’m certain I’ve seen Miss Wotton gazing wistfully after you.”

“It isn’t any of your concern,” said Mr. Cullen, who was blushing.

“Oh, so you do like her!” Algernon laughed. “I’m glad.”

“Don’t think I’m ignorant of you changing the subject away from me scolding you,” Mr. Cullen chided.

Algernon grinned. “My apologies. Please proceed.”

Sighing in thought, Mr. Cullen likewise folded his arms. “He seems like an honest gentleman, sir, and the townfolk certainly like him.”

“This doesn’t seem much like a scolding.”

Mr. Cullen smiled, and Algernon felt reassured that they were still friends.

“I don’t know, I suppose you got a rather good scolding from your
beau
,” Mr. Cullen teased.

“I don’t know if he is my
beau
. Not if we keep fighting over Wealdhant.”

Mr. Cullen got to his feet. “I’m certain it will all sort out, sir. Shall I bring you a fresh pot of tea?”

“Thank you, Cullen.”

Algernon returned to his seat as Mr. Cullen left. His friend’s teasing had helped to settle his nerves, but he still felt guilty and frustrated. It seemed to him that if Jasper would just calm down and discuss matters rationally, they could come to some sort of an agreement. One way or another, the railway would come to Wilston. It was a good thing, but Algernon didn’t know how to make Jasper see that.

The oil lamp by his side snuffed out. Algernon twitched.

There was no draught in the room, and plenty of oil in the lamp’s basin. The warm fireplace across the room still provided light, but the shadows were longer now, and felt irrationally menacing.