“I’m sure you have,” Lady Trentingham said soothingly. A touch of understanding infused her voice, making his pulse leap with hope. Could it be possible he still had her support? “But I understand there were few tenants left by the time you took over.”
“True enough. If the estate is to produce a decent income, I must attract more people to move here.” And repair the housing meant to shelter them. Dozens of crumbling cottages—more costs he was too strapped to bear. But perhaps Rand was finished with the translation by now, and regardless, somehow he would work it out.
He just hadn’t cared enough before this. Loving Violet made all the difference.
He smiled at her mother, thinking having parents of this sort mightn’t be such a bad thing. “I just need to put my mind to it.”
“And you’ve got a brilliant mind there.” She smiled back. “Perhaps Violet’s dowry will ease your way. You do know it’s three thousand pounds?”
“No, I didn’t. It’s very generous.” More than he’d expected.
But it wasn’t enough. No amount of money would be enough. Oh, he supposed there was some number of thousands that would dig the estate out of debt—to his disgrace, he had no idea how much—but he was coming to realize that without his ongoing efforts to ensure that Lakefield produced sufficient income to support all the people who depended on it, it would soon sink back into the morass.
He was ready to take on that responsibility.
Lady Trentingham was waiting for more of a reaction. “I’d have to win Violet first, and even then her marriage portion wouldn’t be enough,” he admitted, then realized she could take that the wrong way. “I mean, my own hard work—”
“I understand.” She touched him on the arm. “My husband is an expert estate manager. I’m sure he’d be happy to counsel you.”
Ford wasn’t too proud to accept help. “I’d be pleased to accept any guidance he’s willing to offer.”
“You may have to shout a bit in the process.” Her smile this time was the same warm smile she’d given him the first day in his garden. “I have faith in you, Ford. And despite what she may think, I know my daughter well, so I’ll tell you this: She wouldn’t mind that you need her inheritance, as long as she were convinced you weren’t marrying her for it.”
He wasn’t sure he believed that, and in any case, he didn’t want to take Violet’s money. Her dowry was one thing, her inheritance quite another. Having aspirations of his own, he’d think twice before jeopardizing her dream of publishing.
No, he’d think ten times. Twenty. Surely there was another way to solve his difficulties.
Lady Trentingham peered through the trees. “I think your family may be ready to leave.”
Indeed, they were all gathered by the barge, shifting from foot to foot. A quick glance at the sun told him if they didn’t get back to Lakefield and their carriages soon, they wouldn’t make it to their homes by nightfall.
But ahead of him, at the end of the path, stood Violet. Looking upset.
Ignoring his siblings’ shouts, he hurried to meet her.
FIFTY-FOUR
WATCHING FORD approach, Violet took a deep breath.
She was determined not to jump to conclusions. She’d had enough of that today—enough of indecision. She would talk to Ford calmly…and she wouldn’t let him touch her until afterward. She needed to keep her head clear.
But before she managed to say a word, he took her hand. And the next thing she knew they were in the summerhouse, and he was pulling off her spectacles and dragging her into his arms. And clear thinking went right out the window.
When he crushed his lips to hers, her knees weakened so, she feared she would tumble to the bricks beneath her feet. They clung together for a long, searing moment before he finally drew back.
“I love you,” he said.
She searched his eyes, still close enough to see. “So you’ve said.”
“What else do you need me to say? Tell me, and I’ll say it.” He set her away, backing up until he looked blurry, until the backs of his knees hit the bench. “I know my life is a shambles,” he said, rushing on as though he’d prepared a speech, “but everything will get much easier after Rand completes the translation. I’m going to Oxford to see him tomorrow. And I know my home isn’t good enough for you, but I’m going to fix it up. Either way, whether Rand is done or not. I never did before, because…well, I’d never planned to live here. But now I want to.”
“Just like that?” she asked, still feeling dizzy from the kiss. And heaven help her, still wanting more.
“Just like that,” he said.
It was exactly what she’d wanted to hear. If only she could believe it.
Faith, how she wished she’d never heard Lady Tabitha’s name! She knew the Chase ladies’ interference had been well-intentioned. They hadn’t meant to trouble her, and they certainly hadn’t meant to give her yet another reason to question their brother’s motives.
“I like your family,” she said, because she did.
“I like your family, too. I want to live here, near your family.”
“Ford—” She paused, then forged on. “Tell me about Lady Tabitha.”
“What?” The shock in his voice worried her. “Where did you hear about her?”
“Your sister. And Amy and Cait—”
“Criminy, what did they say?”
That an heiress you’d planned to marry—despite never truly loving her—jilted you right before you came to Lakefield…
…where he’d conveniently found himself another heiress.
She sighed, suddenly exhausted with her own suspicions. Too exhausted to confront him. “Just that you expected to marry her,” she mumbled.
“That was before I met you.” He stepped closer, so close the scent of patchouli overwhelmed her. “She meant nothing to me, Violet. Nothing.” His eyes burned into hers, willing her to believe.
And perhaps she had
