“And so…he cleared the farmers for sheep grazing?” she ventured.
“Not right away, nay. He didn’t wish to force people off the land, and he tried all he could to avoid it. First he took out loans, but by the time the crops recovered, the price of grain had plummeted. We were in a dire position by then. But though grain had fallen, wool was up.”
Blair shifted his gaze from Amelia to the umber hillsides out one of the study’s windows. “Reluctantly, he agreed to take on a small flock of Cheviot,” he continued. “A few of the crofters voluntarily moved to the coast or to Glasgow to seek work in the factories, hoping for an easier go of things. But still it wasn’t enough. So my father offered incentives for more of the crofters to leave—assisted emigration, they called it.”
“Did such a scheme work?”
Blair snorted softly. “For a time. He filled the land with more sheep and managed to pay down some of his debts. But of course many landowners in the Highlands had followed the same course, and the market became crowded. The price of wool faltered. Yet by then, there was no going back. The only solution was to pack every last acre with sheep to maximize income and pray that we could hold on to Brenmore.”
Amelia shook her head slowly. “I don’t understand. You made it seem as though clearance was the safe bet, the only way to ensure the estate’s solvency. But judging from everything you’ve just told me, your father still nearly lost Brenmore. There is nothing sure about such a course of action. Perhaps he might have even saved the estate another way.”
“On the contrary,” Blair replied. “The risk to the estate came from the fact that my father was slow to act. If he had proceeded decisively from the first signs of trouble, committing to sheep grazing rather than working piecemeal, he would have ensured the estate’s solvency sooner—not to mention saved the crofters from a great deal of uncertainty and instability.”
Amelia gave him a quizzical look. “You think it would have been a mercy, then, for him to clear his lands, completely and immediately.”
“I do.” Blair took a moment to ease the tension from his throat before continuing. “My father died ten years past, not long after my mother. He left me a legacy on the brink of collapse—but it was still mine. I watched him struggle with decisions that were now mine to make. Brenmore has survived—barely. I do not wish for Livie to find herself in the position I did.”
Silence fell over the study for a long moment. “This was your education, then,” she said quietly. “This is why you believe clearance to be the only course at Glenrose.”
“Aye.”
When he met her gaze, he was surprised to find her eyes full of sadness—and the shadow of sympathy. “I believe I understand your reasoning,” she murmured. “But I do not agree.”
Surprise rippled through him. He frowned.
“It is not my place to judge you, of course, nor even form an opinion,” she went on, her hands clasping and unclasping in her lap. “Yet if I may be permitted…”
“Of course,” he said absently. Impatience to hear her thoughts made him all too eager to banish propriety. Blast him, he practically burned for her next words.
She took her time in delivering them, chewing on her lip as she considered for a moment.
“You must remember that I am the daughter of a man who gambled his way into the poorhouse,” she began. “Everything I once thought was secure—my family, my home, my very existence in England—was stripped away because my father took the wrong risks, bet on the wrong outcomes.”
Her dark eyes traveled slowly over him, until Blair felt his skin heat and he was forced to shift in his chair to ease the mounting tension in his body.
“I believe we are alike in that way,” she continued, her voice thoughtful. “Neither one of us is keen on risk-taking, and are instead seeking some means of controlling the fates and futures of those around us.”
She hesitated at what she was about to say next, but seemed to decide after a moment in favor of candor.
“But whereas you believe it is best to batten down and shore up losses against an unknown future, I believe we ought to be planting seeds against tomorrow’s uncertainties. That is why I teach the crofters’ children—and Livie. Their wisdom and perseverance are what will weather us through the storms ahead.”
Blair sat in stunned silence at that. It felt as though she’d fired an arrow directly into the heart of the matter—into his walled-over heart.
“My father taught me that nothing is safe,” she murmured. “But I cannot live in fear—what life is that? Coming to the Highlands helped me understand such a lesson. This land, these people, have taught me the value in tradition, in holding on to the older ways and bringing them forward with us. In using the past to carry us into the future.”
Her gaze had grown distant as she’d spoken of his homeland, her eyes warming with fondness. After a pause, she blinked and refocused on him.
“There is no guarantee that the future will be a bright one, of course. But we have to at least try. We have to fight for the future we hope for, not just guard against the one we fear. After all,” she said, her brows lifting imploringly, “what is the point in Livie inheriting Glenrose if all that remains of it is a heap of rocky soil and
