The Indebted Earl by Erica Vetsch (love letters to the dead TXT) 📕

collect this spring because the earl hadn’t fulfilled his part of the bargain. No repair work got approved for the tenant cottages, and no firing got provided for the first half of the year. With most of the trees gone from this part of the country, his lordship had been forced to haul coal and peat. He brought in a shipload of peat last year from Ireland, but he refused to let me lay in another supply midwinter. He was out of his head, but I didn’t have leave to release the funds without his permission. I didn’t think it right to charge rent when folks were having a hard time keeping fires lit.”

Charles nodded. The man really had been hard-pressed and in a difficult position, and he supposed Grayson’s heart had been in the right place. Still, it was bothersome that the steward had so little fortitude and sense of leadership. He would probably make an excellent second-in-command as long as someone was on hand to give him orders.

“That’s enough for today. Thank you, Grayson. I’ll tour the buildings and grounds this afternoon. Tomorrow morning we’ll meet to create a plan of action.”

“Would you like me to go with you? I can meet you at the stables to ride ’round the property.”

Charles refused to admit to his steward that he’d never sat on a horse in his life. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll reconnoiter on my own first. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of questions for you tomorrow.”

“Very good, sir.” Grayson stood and began gathering the ledgers.

“Leave those. I’ll peruse them more thoroughly tonight.”

“Are you certain, sir? Now that I have your leave, I could begin to fill in the entries that are missing. At least as much as I can.” He kept his hand on the leather-bound books. “It would be no trouble, sir.”

“No, thank you. I’d like to spend more time with them as they are. And I am of a mind to begin a new ledger once we establish where things stand currently.”

The steward had begun nodding before Charles was even half finished. “An excellent idea, sir. There is a blank ledger book in there.” He indicated a cellaret, originally built to hold wine bottles but now stuffed with rolled papers and piled with stacks of books.

“Captain Earl?” Betsy’s face peered around the study door. The ribbon holding her hair had slipped backward and looked in danger of falling off, but she beamed at him, tugging at her earlobe. “Sophie asks if you are ready for your lunch. We’re going to take a walk after. Are you coming?”

Her smile and eager words spread a bit of warmth through his chest. She was an appealing child, and for some unknown reason, she seemed to want his company. And she’d called him Captain Earl. An engaging mistake.

Lunch was a hit-and-miss affair, provisions running as low as they were. The kitchen was spotless, a testament to how the ladies had spent their morning. Lady Sophia’s cheeks bore color, and her hair was a bit mussed from being wrapped in a towel. It pleased him that though she was a highborn lady, she wasn’t above pitching in and working when needed. During the meal, he perused Mrs. Chapman’s list.

“I’m sorry luncheon is so paltry,” the housekeeper apologized. “Most of what was in the pantry was spoiled.”

He took a bite of the poached egg on toast. “If you had seen some of the things we had to eat at sea, you would realize this is bounty.”

“What did you eat? Fish?” Thea asked.

“Upon occasion. But the worst was the ship’s biscuit. It’s a cracker baked so hard you must soak it in your tea or coffee or grog in order to be able to chew it. It had plenty of nicknames, but the one I found most accurate was ‘worm castle.’ Weevils liked to bore into the crackers, and you had to bang the biscuit on the table in the hopes of dislodging them.”

“Ew,” Thea protested. “That’s nasty.”

“The only thing worse than finding a worm in your biscuit is finding half a worm.”

The girls shuddered, and Penny pushed back her plate.

He caught Lady Sophia’s glance and remembered that he wasn’t in a wardroom.

“I beg your pardon, ladies. Being so long at sea has robbed me of my manners.”

“I like it. You talk different from anyone I ever met.” Thea propped her elbows on the table and her chin in her fists. “I bet you have some great stories.”

Penny gently pushed Thea’s elbows off the table. “Did you have lots of men on your ship?”

“The Dogged is a thirty-six gun frigate, and at full capacity carries two hundred men.” Charles crossed his knife and fork on his empty plate. “Twenty officers, two dozen Royal Marines, and the rest able or ordinary seamen.”

“That’s enough men even for you, Pen.” Thea laughed. “Surely you could find one to fall in love with you out of that crowd.”

Penny glared, leaning back with a huff and crossing her arms. “You’re impossible. Your tongue is hung in the middle, and both ends flap constantly.”

“I’d rather be known as a chatterbox than a—”

“Let’s take that walk now, shall we?” Lady Sophia interrupted. “Thank you, Mrs. Chapman. Lunch was excellent.”

Charles rose as the ladies did. “I’ll send Grayson into the village to purchase the items on your list.”

“I’d best go with him. No man of my acquaintance has ever been able to shop from a woman’s list and get it right.” Mrs. Chapman tugged at her apron strings. “If you are agreeable, that is.”

The woman was probably used to operating without much oversight, having run Primrose Cottage for so long. He admired her initiative, wishing some of it would rub off on his steward.

“Very well.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew several gold coins. “Use what you need, keep an account, and return the rest to me.”

Mrs. Chapman’s brows rose, and she took the coins, letting then clink in her hand. “Surely this is far too much?”

“I’ll confess I