Romancing the Heiress(8)
Author: Darcy Burke
Leah couldn’t think of anything more horrible. Everyone watching her every move? Wagers placed on whom she would wed? That would definitely garner her parents’ attention. Furthermore, why bother with such a farce when there was only one man she would ever consider marrying?
“No, thank you,” Leah said with a faint smile. “I don’t think marriage is for me. But perhaps you could choose Genevieve? Then she could make a match with someone more suitable than Phin.”
“I suppose that makes sense. And seeing her married would help you since you could then move on to a new position. All right, I’ll name her. But you are still my first choice.” Sadie met her gaze. “You’ll let me know if you change your mind before Thursday?”
“I will.” But she wouldn’t.
Chapter 4
Phin frowned at the barren gardens his grandfather had once lovingly cultivated behind Radford Grange. This was not what they should look like.
“Stop blaming yourself.” Thomas Fell, Phin’s steward, said from his left. “Last year’s weather was beyond your control. Everyone struggled. You made the right decision to transplant everything that survived here to the botanical gardens.”
Nearing age seventy, Tom possessed more energy in one arm than some people half his age. And his knowledge of managing an estate and botanical gardens could fill several volumes. He’d also managed to father six wonderful children who’d gone on to give him a good many grandchildren. That he was still here working tirelessly with Phin was a testament to the man’s loyalty.
Or stubbornness. More than once, he’d said he would not leave Phin in his current financial predicament. That relieved Phin, for Tom was the only person who knew the true state of Radford Grange’s nearly empty coffers.
“How long will it take to build them back up?” Phin asked, though he already knew. He just wanted to hear Tom’s optimism.
“A couple of years, I’d guess. Stop fretting over things you can’t fix. You didn’t make this mess.”
No, he didn’t—neither the weather nor the state of his coffers. “But I have to tidy it.”
Thomas clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re doing a fine job, lad. Your grandfather would be proud. And your father, though you probably don’t want to hear that.”
Phin’s father had been racked with guilt before his death. He’d gone to Winchester claiming it would solve all their problems. Phin didn’t know what his father had been thinking. How would going to settle a debt that you couldn’t actually pay solve their problems? Perhaps he’d had a scheme in mind. Phin would never know.
“I’m not angry with him anymore,” Phin said. Just disappointed. He’d decided a few years ago that he’d rather focus on happy memories. Right now, however, he didn’t want to think about his father at all. “How much longer can I hide the fact that I’ve only one gardener working at the botanical gardens?”
“Your gardener is also working there, along with two of your grooms.”
“Then I suppose my question is how much longer can I hide the fact that my retainers are working at the gardens alongside the sole gardener dedicated to that property? How long until someone asks why the east meadow is unkempt or how come the follies at the center of the labyrinth haven’t been thoroughly cleaned? Just this week, someone asked why I hadn’t built a new folly since Grandpapa died.”
Tom turned his head toward Phin and removed his hat. One bright blue eye squinted. “Is that so?” He raked his hand through his still incredibly thick gray hair before resecuring his hat.
Phin chuckled. “You seem unperturbed by that.”
“Why get upset about it? Plenty of follies already, if you ask me.”
“You may have a point.” Still, Phin was worried someone would discover the dire financial situation and reveal it to the people of Marrywell. They relied on the botanical gardens, both for the matchmaking festival, since it hosted most of the activities, as well as summer events such as musicales and dance performances, which attracted many hundreds of visitors. Those visitors lodged, ate, and shopped in Marrywell. Without them, the local economy would suffer.
Phin couldn’t allow that to happen. Nor could he let even a hint of this get out—there could very well be a panic. He turned to Tom. “I have an idea and wanted to see what you think.”
Tom pivoted to face him. “I know you aren’t foolish enough to propose a money-making scheme like your father.”
“Never that.” Phin’s shoulders twitched. “What if we lowered the rent for any tenants who agreed to work a certain number of hours each week in the gardens?”
Thomas’s mouth twisted, and he gave Phin a sympathetic look. “I see what you’re trying to do, and I applaud your ingenuity. However, losing revenue isn’t an option right now. Seeking help is an option, though. If you explained to people what happened and that you need assistance through this difficult but temporary period—”
“No.” Phin refused to expose his family’s mistakes. “It would cause alarm, and I can’t do that, especially right now with the festival starting tomorrow.”
“Your scheme would cause the same alarm. The tenants wouldn’t keep quiet about the arrangement,” Tom said, his voice a low rumble. He was bloody right, and Phin should have thought of that. “You could wait until after the festival,” Tom suggested.
Phin shook his head. “Summer is on the horizon, and the gardens have a full schedule of entertainments.”
“Autumn, then.” Tom held up his hand when Phin opened his mouth to refuse. “Don’t let your pride get the better of you.”
“Not wanting to cause others agitation and stress because of this situation is not my pride.” A little of it was his pride, but he really was concerned about instigating panic in the town.
“Some might have a moment or two of distress, but the majority will support you.”
That wasn’t a risk Phin wanted to take. “I have another plan.”
“And what’s that?”
Phin didn’t want to tell him for fear the steward would try to talk him out of it. “Nothing that requires anyone other than me.”
Tom’s thick gray brows pitched into a skeptical V. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”