He laughed at that. “Apparently, you’re sassy, but a bit of brazen attitude is exactly what I’d expect from you. After all, your hair is red.”
They exchanged a charged look, then she yanked away and continued on. But she grinned the whole way home.
“I’m bored already.”
“You’re always bored when you’re not on a ship.”
Jacob Ralston grinned at his friend, Kit Boswell. Kit’s father and Jacob’s father, Miles, had served together in the navy, and when Kit’s father had died, Miles had been named his guardian. Kit had come to live with them when he was a boy and he’d never left.
He and Jacob were the same age of thirty, and they’d been raised together, so they were like brothers, but not like brothers too. While Jacob’s mother had paid for Kit’s schooling, she’d refused to purchase a navy commission for him. Once Jacob had sailed off at sixteen, Kit had stayed behind, but then, he’d never wanted to be a sailor.
He was content to pass the slow days at Ralston Place, and his slothful habits were catching up with him. His eyes were still brown and alert, his hair also brown and showing no signs of grey, but he was developing quite a belly paunch, his face puffy and lined from dissipation. While Jacob was fit and vigorous, Kit was indolent and idle.
He ran the estate for Jacob, so he had important, steady employment, and he’d tolerated and dealt with Jacob’s mother, Esther, in a manner Jacob had never managed. Jacob was grateful to have him on the property, for his presence meant Jacob didn’t have to loaf at home and tend things himself.
During his current visit, his goal was to ascertain if he could bear to muster out of the navy and return for good. He was about to engage himself to his cousin, Roxanne. After he was a husband, shouldn’t he retire? Could he stand it?
His mother had been such a miserable shrew that he’d avoided the place as much as possible, but she was deceased, so she wasn’t around to nag and upset him. Her ghost seemed to linger in every corner though, and he wished he knew a magic spell that would chase her away.
A house was just a house. A farm was just a farm, but her awful aura pervaded every inch of space, and it rocked him with bitter memories.
He and Kit were in the estate office at the rear of the manor and enjoying an afternoon brandy. It was nice to be away from the rest of the household, to have a few minutes to chat. Jacob was sitting at the desk, and Kit was slouched in the chair across. Jacob figured Kit yearned to grouse that the office was Kit’s, that the desk was Kit’s, that they had their seats backward.
Kit wouldn’t dare complain about it though. The desk, the chairs, the mansion, the acreage, and every blade of grass on it, belonged to Jacob, and while Kit was viewed as family, he was still an employee. It was a terribly snobbish attitude for Jacob to have, but he was an Englishman through and through. Status and position counted in every facet of their existence.
“I met the most intriguing woman last night,” he said.
“An intriguing woman? At Ralston Place? I can’t fathom it.”
“It was a Miss James?”
“Yes, Joanna James.”
“She claimed she’s nursing Margaret.”
“Your sister has been under the weather, and I argued with her to send for the doctor, but the housekeeper told me she’s suffering from female troubles, so Miss James is a better choice.”
“What sort of female troubles?”
Kit shrugged. “Who can guess? It’s the sort Miss James is supposedly adept at fixing.”
Jacob snorted at that. He’d been home for twenty-four hours, and he’d barely seen Margaret. She was hiding in her room and not particularly excited that he was back, but what had he expected? Their mother’s grim attitudes and stern habits had ensured he and Margaret weren’t close.
They had another sister, Pamela, who was two years older than Jacob. She’d eloped with a man their mother would never have allowed her to wed. The disgraced pair had fled to America, so he never corresponded with them and had no idea if she was happy. He hoped she was. He’d like for one of the Ralston siblings to have a good ending.
His cousin and fiancée, Roxanne, was in residence too, but he’d hardly seen her either. It had him feeling like a stranger, which he mostly was. He deliberately stayed away, and if Roxanne and Margaret weren’t exactly glad he’d staggered in, he had no one to blame but himself.
“Apparently, Miss James has a cottage?” he said.
“It’s the small one out by the London road.”
“Do I have a cottage out by the London road?”
“It was empty for years because it’s so isolated, so I gave it to her aunt.” Kit rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Jacob, now that you’re here for an extended period, why don’t you ride around your property. Learn about what you own.”
“I might try that. Maybe it would cure my boredom.”
He finished his drink, stood, and started out. Kit didn’t rise with him, but asked, “Weren’t you planning to examine the account ledgers?”
“I changed my mind. It’s too pleasant an afternoon to spend it talking about expenses and debts.”
“I agree.”
Kit toasted him with his glass, then Jacob escaped.
He realized that he ought to show more of an interest in the place. It had been his since his father had died when he was ten. A relative had managed it for him when he was still a boy, then Kit had taken over after they’d become adults.
He never questioned Kit over any issue, but why would he? Kit was paid to be in charge, and Jacob wouldn’t sneak around behind him, nitpicking and second-guessing. He probably shouldn’t be so trusting, but so far, he’d never had reason to rein in Kit or revoke any
