“Your wish is my command.”
Was there condescension in Kit’s tone? If so, Jacob ignored it.
Kit had grown up with them, and he’d been raised as if he were a Ralston. They’d paid for his upbringing and schooling, but he had a chip on his shoulder. No matter what they’d provided, he’d never believed it was sufficient.
Jacob had tried to persuade him to enlist in the navy when they were sixteen, but he’d been content to tarry at Ralston Place. Eventually, the chance arose for him to become the manager, but occasionally, Jacob wondered if he was regretting his decision. Jacob had spent the prior fourteen years exploring the globe, fighting in battles, and having adventures. Kit had sat in the country, carrying on pretty much as he had when Jacob had first sailed away.
Was Kit bitter? Was he chafing that he hadn’t picked a different path?
Jacob wasn’t prone to deep reflection, so he wasn’t keen to contemplate those questions. Men made choices, and Kit had made his. Jacob wasn’t his nanny, and it wasn’t his burden to guarantee Kit was happy.
He finished his drink and put the glass on the desk. “I should be going. I guess we’re dressing for supper now.”
“It’s what your fiancée tells me, so I have to get moving too or I’ll be late.”
Jacob opened his mouth to comment, then he abruptly closed it. “Gad, I was about to say I preferred the routines we had when Mother was alive.”
Kit shuddered with mock dread. “Perish the thought. I realize I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but I can’t claim that I miss her.”
“You are a master of understatement—as always, Mr. Boswell. You stayed and dealt with her, so I didn’t have to. For that favor, I will be eternally grateful.”
“I should be awarded some type of medal, don’t you think?”
“Courage under fire?”
“Yes, definitely.”
Jacob snorted with amusement, stood, and left. He should have proceeded to his bedchamber to change his clothes, but as he reached the stairs, he spun away and headed for the stables. He wasted a bit of time snooping, checking the stalls to see if they were clean, the tack to see if it was oiled and in good condition.
The place was spotless, but then, he’d supposed it would be. The men of the Sanders family had supervised the horses and equipment for decades, perhaps even centuries, and they were sticklers for doing a thorough job.
Finally, he stumbled on Sandy, which had been his goal, but he hadn’t wanted it to appear as if he’d been chasing after the man. He was leaned on a fence, watching the horses frolic, and Jacob dawdled too, watching Sandy watch the animals.
The sun was in the western sky and would begin to set very soon. The air was so fresh, the grass so green. He felt lucky all of a sudden—and very glad to own such a magnificent property.
The powerful swirl of emotion was surprising. Usually, he couldn’t care less about the estate, so maybe he was maturing. Maybe someday, he’d shuck off his unpleasant memories and start to be proud of what he had.
Sandy noticed him and waved, and Jacob used the gesture as an excuse to bluster over and stand beside him. He could never figure out how they should interact. When they were very young, they’d been playmates of a sort.
Not often though. His mother had been too much of a snob to let them socialize, but despite her best efforts to separate them, they’d been chums, little Jacob and Sandy, two rascals who’d snuck away to rollick in secret mischief that he still fondly recollected.
But adulthood and their disparate stations had erected barriers he wasn’t sure how to surmount. They’d once been little Jacob and Sandy. Now they were . . . what?
Only the strictest formality was appropriate.
“It’s a lovely evening, Captain,” Sandy said. “Nice to be out in it.”
“I’m away from England so much. I never really view it like this.”
Their conversation lagged, and the encounter grew awkward. Jacob couldn’t deduce how they were to chat, and ultimately, Sandy said, “I ought to be going. I have to get home to supper with my sons.”
“I hadn’t heard you were married. Who is your wife?”
“You wouldn’t ever have met her, but I’m a widower.” Sandy’s tone indicated he wouldn’t discuss her, and Jacob shouldn’t pry. “My boys are greedy about seeing me at the end of the day. Since their mother passed away, they cling tighter than they should, but I don’t have the heart to be aloof with them.”
“What a refreshing style of parenting.”
Sandy scoffed. “Before I head off to join them, may I assist you with anything?”
“You know Miss James, don’t you? The healer who’s been tending my sister.”
“Everybody knows her.”
“It’s not safe for her to be walking around the neighborhood on her own. What would you think if we loaned her a cart and a horse? It would ease some of her burdens.”
Sandy chuckled. “I’ve already offered them, but she’s too stubborn. Her exact words were, What would I do with a horse?”
Jacob chuckled too. “That sounds like her, so I guess it’s not in the cards to provide them. We can’t force her to accept our help.”
“It’s kind of you to ponder her though. She’s alone in the world—she and that niece of hers—living in the woods like that. She’s content out there, but I fear for them constantly.”
“Maybe one of the local boys will fall in love and wed her. A husband would solve many of her problems.”
“They’re all afraid of her. They claim—if you were her husband and tried to boss her—she might . . .” He cut off the remark. “I like her, and I shouldn’t be crude. Don’t listen to me.”
“Tell me what they say.”
“Well . . . ah . . . that she can cast a spell and shrivel a man’s private parts.”
Jacob blew out an annoyed breath. “People are such idiots.”
“I agree.”
He turned toward Sandy and said, “Why were you and Kit quarreling?”
Sandy gazed at the horses forever, debating his reply. In the end, he chose, “If
