A loyal jokester. A brooding warrior. An all-seeing old soul. If they proved to be what Charlie claimed they were, the house party might be enjoyable after all, free of the threat Society too often posed. And three gentlemen were not so many that she couldn’t keep an eye on them all, especially knowing Artemis would as well.
“Some of the Huntresses are not as . . . invulnerable as Artemis has taught us—them—to appear.”
He looked fully at her once more. “I would trust each of these three gentlemen with my life. And I further trust that Artemis would make good on her threat to torture and murder any of them who put so much as a toe out of line. I give you my word that this house party will be enjoyable and safe even for the most vulnerable among us. My solemn word, Gillian.”
“Gentlemen don’t always keep their word,” she said softly.
“This one does, especially a vow made in my father’s garden. He valued loyalty and honesty and integrity above most everything else.”
Gillian nodded. It was enough for her to move forward with some degree of faith. Three gentlemen Charlie swore were trustworthy. Three.
She was equal to that. She only hoped there would be no surprises.
Chapter Four
“Charlie and Artemis do knowthat we’re coming, don’t they?” It hadn’t occurred to Scott before now to ask, though it should have. His uncle had called Scott a great many things during the horrid months before his death; the one Scott had never been able to shake off was “a burden.” He didn’t belong in the house he’d inherited almost by accident or in the country he now called home, which gave some credibility to the label. Arriving unannounced at someone else’s house was almost the definition of being a burden.
Mater reached across the coach and squeezed his hand. “I sent a messenger ahead. They are expecting us.”
That was a relief. “I would not care to be an imposition.”
“That is both a reflection of your good character and a commentary on the damage your uncle did.”
“Good characteranddamage?” He shook his head, smiling. “I fear you will have to explain that.”
“You are considerate of others, and that is to your credit. Your uncle also treated you and your sister as a weight and an inconvenience your entire life. I suspect he convinced you that no one could look on your presence as anything but unwanted. It was unkind of him and decidedly unfair.”
Unfair, yes, but Scott couldn’t honestly argue that his presence had been a boon to his uncle or, at least of late, his sister. Certainly not his mother. She hadn’t seemed overly heartbroken when he’d left America for good. “You have never made me feel like a burden, Mater. I cannot thank you enough for that.”
“I know I’ve asked you this a few times,” Mater said, “and I’m not attempting to pry, I swear to you. I am simply worried. How bad is your situation?”
“Badis not a strong enough word,” he said on a sigh. “My uncle did not merely leave me empty coffers; he left me debt. Heneglected Sarvol House to the point that it needs thousands of pounds in repairs, most of the tenants have left, large swaths of land are unable to be planted. Thimbleby, the property up here in the north, is likely in a similar state.”
“Does neither holding produce an income?” Mater asked.
Scott shook his head. “What little Sarvol House does still produce doesn’t cover its expenses. I’m barely managing to not add to the debt I inherited, let alone pay any of it off. My many, many creditors are growing impatient.”
“They’re demanding what they’re owed?”
“I wish that were all. There is talk of debtors’ prison.”
Mater grew very still. “Oh, Scott.”
He’d not shared this much with anyone yet. It felt good to talk about it, to not be holding in his worries. But the last thing he could allow himself to be was a burden. “I’m fortunate that my father left me an inheritance. That has helped prevent a complete disaster.”
“Yes, thank the heavens.” Mater looked a little relieved.
He would leave it at that. He wouldn’t tell her that the inheritance was almost gone, that if Thimbleby needed work, he wouldn’t be able to see it done. That neither property could be sold. That neither was in a state to lease. He’d drafted a letter to send to a barrister, asking if it were possible for someone to relinquish his claim on an inheritance. Doing so would leave him penniless, without a home, and unable to remain near Sarah, but he didn’t know if he had any other option. He didn’t know if he hadthisoption. He’d even thought about going to London and trying to convince a wealthy heiress to marry him. It wasn’t what he’d always imagined for himself, but he was desperate enough to consider it. Of course, one had to have money to take part in the social whirl.
His options were few and horrible, leaving him nearly drowning in despair.
“It is a shame this Thimbleby is entailed,” Mater said. “If you could sell it, that would make a difference.”
“It would.” He summoned a smile, trying to reassure her without outright lying. “I’ve thought about trying to take up a gentlemanly occupation to help bolster my income, but I haven’t the funds for schooling, which eliminates the law and the church. And I can only imagine the mutiny it would cause amongst a regiment to find a newly arrived soldier speaking with an American accent.”
In a quiet voice, Mater said, “Please tell me you aren’t considering the army. It is noble, yes, but I would worry so much.”
A burden.