“Would you like a tour, sir, or would you rather rest?” Mrs. Baum asked.
“I would enjoy a tour. I’ve been sitting for hours and need to stretch my legs.”
Even though his leg protested, Heath knew it would be worse later if he didn’t move around. Too much or too little activity was bad for his leg.
The lady nodded and for the next hour took him through the rooms on the main floor, which included a spacious study filled to the brim with books, a drawing room, billiards room, formal dining room and the kitchen in the back. His mother would have loved to have such a large kitchen. As they strolled through the house, Mrs. Baum introduced Heath to the staff, which included a cook, a scullery maid, and a housemaid.
“The previous baronet was a widower with no children, so he had little use for all of the house, and therefore did not require a large staff. Are you married, sir?”
Heath’s eyes widened. The question caught him off guard and he stuttered for a second. “No, I am not.”
“There is plenty of time.” The housekeeper smiled at him. “And plenty of ladies in the area who would make you a fine wife.”
He inwardly groaned. A wife was the last thing he wanted.
By the end of the hour, Heath’s leg pulsated, so he asked to be shown to his chambers, which were nearly the size of the house he had grown up in.I shall have to invite Victoria and Jeffrey to visit. They won’t believe the size of this house.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in.”
Jenkins entered. “I just wanted to see if you required anything, sir.”
“I’m fine, thank you. I just need to rest my leg.”
“Shall I ask Mrs. Baum to make you a cup of tea? I know she has herbs to help with certain ailments. It may help you, sir.”
Heath studied the butler, who looked only a handful of years older than him. Was the man truly trying to be helpful, or was he sniffing around for information? Nothing in the butler’s expression made Heath believe he was being anything but polite. Perhaps it would be best to get things out in the open regarding his leg. The staff wouldn’t know about his injury. Better they hear about it from him instead of making their own assumptions.
“I was injured in the war in New Zealand. A bullet hit my leg and left me with a limp and the need for a cane. You have my permission to let the rest of the staff know, so there won’t be any talk.”
Jenkins pulled his shoulders back, standing at his full height. “No one would say anything, sir. We are loyal to the family. Most of us grew up on the estate or around Dover.”
“That is good to know.” If nothing else, Heath knew the loyalty of the country folk. “I do have one question, Jenkins. Is there an estate manager or someone I could speak to regarding exactly what I have inherited?”
“The last baronet managed everything on his own. The ledgers are in the study. I will put them on the desk for your review. He used a local solicitor in Dover for business matters, Mr. Matheson. He should be of some assistance.”
“Thank you.”
“What I can tell you is that there are several tenant farmers, which are the primary source of income. I believe the late baronet mentioned some investments, but Mr. Matheson would know about that. There is a brewery on the estate, but it hasn’t been operational for several years.”
It was a lot to take in. At least he could speak to the farmers and understand their issues. As far as investments, he didn’t have the foggiest idea. Numbers had never been his favorite subject for the few years he had gone to school.
“Is there anything else, sir?”
“No, thank you, Jenkins.”
Heath lay back on the soft pillows, trying to take everything in. Even the bed he was on was the softest he’d ever had. From now on, everything in his life would be better. But why didn’t he feel happy? Because he felt like a fraud. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, trying to pretend he was something he was not. Everyone would see through him. The gentry knew quality, and he definitely was not quality. The calluses on his hands told that story.
He would have to make the best of it. First thing in the morning, he would get a solid footing on what exactly it meant to be a baronet.
* * *
After breakfast the next day, Jenkins took Heath around to meet a few of the tenant farmers. For the first time since arriving, Heath felt like he was with people he could relate to. The farmers were delighted to discover their new landlord understood the intricacies and issues with farming. The principal crops were barley and other grains which were shipped to Dover to be sold. Heath reassured each farmer that he would do everything he could to support them to be successful. After all, their success meant a profit for him as well.
The morning over, Heath settled into the study to review the account ledgers. The leather-bound tomes looked daunting, but Heath knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. He opened the first book and glanced over the page. For the next hour, he tried to decipher the columns, but it was useless. The longer he started at the numbers, the more they turned into a jumble of gibberish. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Heath slammed the book shut and let out a curse.
Just as he thought. It might as well be Greek or Latin, for all the use it did him. Heath’s father had died when his son was just ten years old. Being the only son, the responsibility of tending to the farm had fallen on Heath’s shoulders. Unfortunately, his education had fallen to the wayside. Heath’s lack of education hadn’t hindered him in his career as a soldier or farmer. But for a titled gentleman, it was a glaring fault that would have to be remedied. The question was, how? He could hire an estate manager, but even then, he couldn’t go through the rest of his life being ignorant.
At that moment, Jenkins walked through the open doorway and bowed. “Begging your pardon, sir, but Mr. Jasper Dawkins is calling. Shall I say you are available?”