Artemis nodded her agreement. “And what does your father have to say?”
“We don’t talk. There was a moment earlier today when he broke from his butler’s mien for a moment. That didn’t go well at all.”
“I won’t share any of this with anyone,” Artemis said. “But I do mean to give it a great deal of thought. And I will offer you only one bit of advice: try to talk to your father about it. Your predicament began with a decisionhemade. He should be part of fixing it.”
“What if he isn’t willing?” Pain pierced her as she spoke aloud the fear that lingered in the back of her mind.
“Then that, in itself, might be part of your answer, Gillian.”
She was right, of course.But that didn’t make any of this easy. Sometimes life felt like walking along the edge of a cliff, knowing the wind would pick up any moment but not having the first idea if it would push her to safety or steal the very ground from under her.
Chapter Twenty-six
Scott’s first day back atSarvol House was a difficult one.
A letter had arrived for him from the barrister he’d written to. The man didn’t merely tell him that rejecting his inheritance was not possible under its terms and under current law. He also very firmly reminded Scott that debts a person inherited were, from the moment of inheritance, considered no different in the eyes of the law than debts that person had acquired himself. It wasn’t a surprise declaration, but it was still a heavy one. He didn’t particularly wish to give up his claim on the Sarvol estate and holdings—indeed, he was working very hard to save them—but reading in such plain and authoritative words the confirmation that yet another option was entirely impossible still settled like a weight on his mind.
Worse even than the barrister’s discouraging letter, Scott had to face the staff. He had to tell them about the need to further economize, that most of them would not remain employed there. He knew it was the only way to save the estate, but he still felt like such a failure. There wouldn’t be a local hiring fair for months. Many of these people who had endured his uncle, had kept Sarvol House functioning and standing through the deprivation of the past years, would struggle to find other employment.
“I am sorry,” he told them all. “This isn’t fair to any of you, and I tried very hard to avoid it.”
“We know you tried, Mr. Sarvol,” Janey, the ’tween stairs maid, said. “That’s more than old Mr. Sarvol did.”
Generally, a servant would be scolded by the housekeeper or butler for speaking ill of their late employer. Both those good people only nodded their agreement. Mr. and Mrs. Tanner had been at Sarvol House since Scott’s childhood. He’d known them from his visits over the years. They had been one of the sourcesof light during the miserably dark months leading up to his uncle’s death.
“I cannot thank all of you enough for staying on as long as you did under such difficult circumstances,” Scott continued. “I will, of course, provide you all with very favorable references. And I will do everything I can to someday see Sarvol House restored to what it once was.”
He offered them individual farewells and expressions of gratitude as they, one-by-one, left the servants’ hall, until only Mrs. Tanner remained.
“I feel like I’ve let them all down,” Scott said, his uncle’s voice echoing in his memory, predicting just such a failure.
“The late Mr. Sarvol did that,” she said. “I lay the blame for all these troubles squarely on him.”
Scott appreciated that, but he didn’t feel entirely blameless. “This will likely be a frustrating place to work for the next few years.” He needed to make certain she understood that.
“I’ve worked here for a lot of years. I, too, would like to see Sarvol House find its soul again.”
Find its soul.The poetic description sounded far better than “not crumble in a disastrous heap,” which had been his goal up to that point. “I have tried to find a means of keeping your husband on as butler. I simply cannot afford to pay his salary. If that means you also feel it best to leave, I will understand.”
But she shook her head. “He loves this house as much as I do. And he’s too old for finding work elsewhere, seeing as whomever hired him would be pensioning him in only a few years. I can’t imagine you have the funds for pensioning him now if you haven’t money enough for paying him to work.”
“I don’t.” His frustration bubbled anew. “And I am so sorry for that.”
She didn’t look upset. In fact, she looked almost sanguine. Her husband had lost his position, and she was optimistic?
“We’ve talked about this possibility, Mr. Sarvol, and we have a proposition for you. My husband would be quite pleased to stay on, not for a salary, but for food and a roof over his head and the ability for the two of us to continue working together and, therefore, living in the same house.”
Scott pushed back the impulse to accept. “I can’t take advantage of him that way. To not pay him—”
“We would consider ourselves perfectly well paid. We would be together, and that is worth a lot.”
“You’re certain?”
She nodded without hesitation, without any uncertainty.
It was a bit of luck, something Scott needed. “I would be grateful to you both if he would remain under that arrangement.”
“And I would be grateful,” Mrs. Tanner said, “if we waited until after the family dinner with your sister before boarding up the back windows. I know it must be done, but it’d be nice to have her here while the house is still . . . whole.”