“Even receiving the letter did not prepare me for the truth of him not being here.” He mustered a wry smile. “I was just thinking about our ghost-hunting days. We were determined to find and converse with the ghosts of the Hall.”
Olivia’s smile returned. “Well, the ghosts are still around. You may get your chance still. Here, let’s go down to breakfast.”
Max followed her down the curved marble stairs that led to the main entrance hall. They went left and into a small cozy morning room. Mrs. Peabody bustled through a door on the opposite side of the room. “Well, if it isn’t the missing heir.” Her smile bloomed. “Come here, Master Drake, and let me have a look at you.”
Max dutifully crossed the room to greet the housekeeper. Besides a few laugh lines around her eyes and some gray threaded through her hair, she looked as young and vital as ever. He bent to buss her cheek. “Good morning Mrs. Peabody. It’s lovely to see you again.”
She stepped back and looked him up and down. “You’ve grown into a fine specimen of a man. Look how suntanned you are! Where have you been?”
“Italy.”
She placed a hand to her chest. “Oh my! How exotic. Now I hope you won’t be disappointed in our old-fashioned English breakfast.”
“Mrs. Peabody, you can’t imagine how much I have missed an English breakfast. Do you still make those delicious honey cakes?”
“Of course! I remember they were your favorite.”
Olivia stepped forward and gestured to the small round table. “Let’s sit. I remember your affinity for honey as well. You know, we still keep beehives on the western edge of the gardens.”
“Do you?” Max pulled out a chair for Olivia. “There is nothing as good as fresh honey.”
Mrs. Peabody left through the door she had entered, and Max rounded the table to sit down opposite Olivia.
She delicately blew on her hot tea. “I’d be happy to take you around the property. It’s not raining, and the air is fresh and crisp this morning.” Olivia took a sip of tea and glanced across the table. “There is not much happening now, but I can fill you in on plans for this spring.”
“The solicitor informed me that your father is no longer in his position. He said no new land steward had been hired and that Henry had been handling things himself. The man was not amused when I laughed at that statement.” This had been bothering Max ever since his conversation with the solicitor. He knew damn well that Henry never had any inclination to learn how the estate worked. Henry’s father had also never been the outdoorsman and had relied heavily on his land steward’s knowledge. The old earl had been much more interested in politics than sheep.
Several things, in fact, had been bothering him since that lengthy conversation. Mr. Knightsbridge had been irritatingly discreet while somehow still appearing solicitous. The only inclination of the man’s opinions had been a disapproving frown when Mr. Knightsbridge had let him know that Lady Rivenhall was still living at the manor. And that Henry had left her a generous portion along with others. The man was not at liberty to disclose who those others were, only that the money had come from Henry’s personal wealth and not from the estate’s income. The why of Lady Rivenhall’s continued residence at the hall was also not up for discussion. Max had been instructed to ask her himself. How did one bring up the topic? He certainly couldn’t have his cousin’s widow installed here at the estate without tongues wagging. He glanced across the table at Olivia.
“Mr. Knightsbridge is correct; my father is no longer in his position. Six years ago, when he became earl, Henry fired my father.” Her lips twitched. “But you are misinformed. It is not Henry who has been taking care of the estate. I took over my father’s duties. In fact, I have been handling things for quite some time.”
Flabbergasted, Max leaned back in his seat. “Where are your parents now?”
Olivia’s lips thinned, and sadness crept into her eyes. “My mother died shortly after you left. And my father…well, I’m not sure where he went when Henry let him go. And I don’t care to know.”
“Livvy.” Max didn’t know what to say. Her life had fallen apart, and he hadn’t been here to help. He wished he could reach for her hand. But that was not who they were anymore. So, he just murmured, “Why didn’t you write me?”
“I did,” she said softly. Then she shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Henry took care of things when my life went upside down. But you are right, Henry much preferred town. He trusted me to run the estate. Speaking of the estate, I’m happy to give you a report on the status of things. And the offer for a tour is open whenever you are ready.”
“Perhaps that can wait until Mr. Bromley arrives.” Max reeled from her simpleI did. She had written to him about her mother? No, he hadn’t received any letters from her at all. Even though he’d written every week, like clockwork the first year he had been in Paris.
“Who?”
Max took a long sip of tea. “David Bromley, the land steward I hired. He will be arriving later this week.”
Olivia’s chair scraped back as she abruptly stood. “You’ve hired a land steward?”
Her cheeks were stained red. Max stood as well, confused. “Yes, I’ll need to have someone to oversee the estate. I haven’t been groomed my whole life to take on this role. I’ll need help.”
“Maxwell Drake, of all the high-handed things. You should have consulted me first.” She practically vibrated with emotion.
“Livvy, please sit down. Let’s discuss this.”
She shook her head. “Nobody knows this land better than I. If anyone should oversee the estate, it should be me.”
“You?” His incredulity let his tongue loose before he could censor himself. “I mean, I have no doubt you are capable. But you must know that it is entirely improper on several levels. One, you are—”
“If you say woman.” Olivia bit out in warning.