In the meantime, he’d been dancing attendance on Roxanne, struggling to become better acquainted, but it was a losing proposition. They had nothing in common, and their stark differences were irritating him in a manner that was difficult to ignore.
If he staggered into the marriage, the disparities would grow more pronounced. They’d start to hate each other, and gradually, they’d live apart. It was how his parents had carried on, their dislike festering until his father vanished and never returned. They’d hardly known him and had to rely on the likes of Libby Carstairs to hear stories as to what he was like.
Jacob refused to immerse himself in such a debacle, so now what?
On top of his issues with the engagement, he’d received a preliminary report from his accounting firm in London. Huge amounts of money were missing, and Kit had been in charge for over a decade. Jacob wasn’t yet ready to accuse anyone of stealing, most especially Kit.
He hoped it would boil down to a case of gross mismanagement, but what was worse? Embezzlement or incompetence?
He and Kit were on the edge of a monumental quarrel he was loathe to initiate. He’d have to level threats and demand improved behavior, but he was simply anxious for things to limp along as they always had, with people doing their jobs so Jacob didn’t have to worry about what was happening when he was away.
“I have a question,” Kit said, “but with you being so peevish, I’m not keen to pose it.”
“Just ask me. Don’t be an ass about it.”
“I’ve been pondering the gamekeeper’s cottage where Miss James resides.”
“What about it?”
“I have a tenant who needs a new house, and she’s never paid any rent. The place is so far from the village, and I felt it was worth it to have someone on the premises to look after it. What if I told her she had to move out? Would you mind?”
“Leave her alone.”
“I’m regularly deluged with gossip that she’s a charlatan who preys on the sick and the weak. Those who are more superstitious, who believe in the old legends, insist she’s a witch. Should we be encouraging her to spread her nonsense around the neighborhood?”
“Who, precisely, is gossiping about her? Recently, Roxanne raised the same objections, so it sounds to me as if you’re much too cozy with my fiancée.”
“Why are you so angry with Roxanne? With each mention of her name, you fly off the handle.”
His patience was exhausted for numerous reasons, but mainly, he kept imagining how he might renege on the betrothal. Then what? Her parents were deceased, her family’s property and other assets sold a decade earlier when her father went bankrupt. If Jacob set her aside, what would she do?
She’d traveled to England on his promise to marry her. What kind of cad would he be if he backed out?
Kit continued his nagging. “And why are you so accommodating of Miss James? She couldn’t survive without our charity. Has she cast a spell on you? She has that effect on men, you know.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake. I invited you to have a drink because I thought it would be a pleasant way to spend an hour. Why must you constantly annoy me?”
“Have I mentioned how grouchy you are lately? What’s wrong? I can’t utter a word without you jumping down my throat.”
They might have erupted into a full-blown argument, but the butler poked his nose in and said, “Mr. Sanders is here, Captain. He’s asking to speak with you privately.”
“Sandy is here?” Jacob inquired. “Did he tell you what he wants?”
“No.” The butler shot a caustic glare at Kit. “He didn’t share his purpose with me. Are you available?”
In all the years since Jacob had inherited, he couldn’t remember a single occasion that Sandy had sought an appointment, so it was probably important, but he was in no mood to chat with Sandy—or anybody else for that matter. He’d conversed with Kit, but he’d simply snapped and barked. Hopefully, Sandy would talk about a topic that didn’t involve Roxanne or Jacob’s skewed engagement.
“I’ll see him,” Jacob said. “Send him in.”
The butler bowed himself out, and an oppressive silence descended. Then Kit asked, “Will you let me stay?”
“No.” Jacob scoffed. “What part of private conversation didn’t you understand?”
“If he has a complaint about me, he ought to disclose it to my face. I bet if I was sitting here, he wouldn’t be so quick to tattle.”
“Why would you automatically assume his comments will be about you? It’s entirely possible he has a whole slew of subjects to discuss that don’t include you at all.”
“He went behind my back to whine about Widow Barnes’s roof.”
“He didn’t go behind your back. I tracked him down on my own. I was grateful he told me the truth, rather than lying. In my view, a man should be allowed to be frank, and he shouldn’t be punished for it.”
“Bully for you, but this isn’t your ship. He’s my employee, and he works for me. You’re never confronted by his insolence.”
“I’ve always found him to be unfailingly polite.”
“Of course he’s polite to you! To me, he’s a pompous, overbearing prick. I put up with him because he’s skilled at his job, but where is the line to be drawn so I can recognize when he steps over it?”
Jacob sighed. This was the sort of problem he detested. On his ship, he was the ultimate ruler, and he had complete authority. He was judge, jury, and executioner. He could have a sailor flogged or hanged. He could lock him in the brig on bread and water rations.
No penalty was beyond him. At Ralston Place though, he was an absentee owner. He gave Kit the power to run things as he liked, so he comprehended Kit’s pique over his usurping control.
He comprehended it, but that didn’t mean Sandy couldn’t voice an opinion. In fact, because of the report about the ledgers, he should speak to
