“Perhaps there is another alternative,” Amelia offered. “Some way to ensure the estate’s solvency without resorting to clearance.”
His eyes were hard and cold as chips of ice when they met hers, but his voice was surprisingly soft. “I take no pleasure in the prospect of clearing the crofters, but I assure ye it is the only way forward. Many a Highland estate owner has struggled with the same set of circumstances, looking for any possible alternative, only to be forced into clearance—or end bankrupt and landless. At least this way Livie will be able to stay on at the manor.”
Foreboding swept over her. “Was…was that ever in question?”
Blair let a long breath go. “Before I completed my assessment of the ledgers, I wasn’t even sure the keep could be saved. If things had been worse—if the late Earl hadn’t already cut the estate’s maintenance costs to their bare essentials—the manor might have been shuttered and Livie sent away to boarding school to finish her education.”
Both Livie and Amelia gasped at that, but Blair spoke quickly. “It will not come to that, however. Livie, ye may stay here with Miss Harlow to instruct ye. But such an arrangement will only be possible if we follow the course of clearance for the rest of the estate.”
“I willnae allow ye to do this,” Livie blurted, shooting to her feet. “I am to be Glenrose’s Countess someday, and I say ye cannae clear away the people.”
Blair suddenly looked weary. Eyes pinched, he tugged absently on his snowy-white cravat.
“Unfortunately, ye do not have a say just yet, lass,” he murmured. “As yer guardian, the burden of such a decision rests with me.”
“But—”
“It has already been set in motion. I sent a letter to my solicitor this morning instructing him to bring the necessary paperwork with all haste so that we may have this matter settled. He should be here within the week.”
“Nay!” Livie stood there for a moment, her whole small body seeming to vibrate with frustration. Then she turned on her heels and bolted for the study door. Scone darted after her, apparently still loyal to Livie over Blair.
Amelia jerked to her feet and started after the girl, but a large, warm hand on her shoulder halted her.
Blair stood over her, a dark figure against the gray light flooding in from the windows behind him. He glanced down at where his hand still rested on her, his throat bobbing with a swallow.
“Stay a moment,” he said, his deep voice rippling through her.
Amelia looked at the door where Livie had disappeared, but then she gave Blair a reluctant nod. She lowered herself into her chair once more, heart hammering in her ears as she waited to hear what he had to say.
Chapter Eight
Blair’s hand tingled when he at last removed it from Miss Harlow’s shoulder. He clenched it into a fist as he sank into his chair.
It was foolish to ask her to stay, foolish to care what she thought of him. Yet he’d seen the confusion and disappointment in her deep brown eyes as he’d spoken with Livie, and some rudimentary part of him couldn’t stand the thought of her imagining him a cold, heartless bastard. He needed her to understand, needed the opportunity to explain himself.
“No doubt ye think me cruel for the way I spoke to Livie.”
“Not cruel, no.” Her chestnut brows drew together. “But I wonder at involving her at all when, as you say, you will be the one to make decisions about the estate until she comes of age.”
“I disagree. When Livie does inherit, she will be in the position of making the hard choices necessary to keep Glenrose alive. Just as she requires an education in French and geography and arithmetic, so too does she need to learn about the management of an estate—and the sometimes-harsh realities such a responsibility entails.”
Miss Harlow watched him closely as he spoke. “Is that how you came to be educated in your role, my lord?”
Damn, but she was perceptive.
“Please, do call me Blair,” he said, sidestepping her question. “I find that the lack of formality here at Glenrose is growing on me. Besides, it feels strange to pretend that we are almost strangers when ye’ve shared so much about yerself with me. I hope ye’ll allow me to take the liberty of calling ye Amelia when we are alone.”
She blinked, a pretty pink flush coming to her cheeks. “Of course,” she murmured. “But if we are to be on such familiar terms, is it not strange that you know so much about me, yet I know very little about you?”
She had him there. Perhaps sharing some of his past would help her understand his present actions.
“Ye are quite right. Ye asked about my education, so I will start there. Though I was always to inherit Brenmore and the Earldom, I was not sent away to boarding school. My father believed all the lessons I needed could be found on the estate. I imagine my mother had something to do with that decision as well. I was their only child, and she was loath to part with me.”
Despite the gravity of their current situation, he smiled faintly. “I was permitted to run quite wild on the estate, being granted all the freedoms and rustic joys of a charmed Highland childhood. Fishing and swimming in Brenmore’s loch, raising the gamekeeper’s hunting dogs from puppies, riding my wee pony behind my father when he paid visits to the crofters…”
He cleared his throat, setting aside the fond memories. The comforts and liberties of his youth, largely spent roaming the landscape, were irrelevant to the matter at hand.
“My father’s belief that I could learn all I required proved true, especially when the troubles with harvest yields began. Seeing as how
