Page 38 of When She Loved Me
“Hmmm. Even Wentworth Manor, which is three times the size of the abbey, hasn’t a mill or mine,” Trevor mused.
Nicole added, “The records show that in 1800, there was more than twice the number of tenant farms and the estate, asa whole, consisted of over 500 persons. Presently, there are less than 300 people who live within the boundaries.”
“And what income does the estate provide now, at these numbers?”
Ian flipped through the pages of his ledger. “Last year, the abbey grossed almost a thousand pounds.” He pushed the book over to Trevor. “But you can see the expenses, for the house and staff, and what few repairs and maintenance we allowed, puts only about 700 pounds into the Leven coffers.”
“Putting aside any costs related to opening the mill again and the mine—I imagine those would involve larger expenditures—what other monies need to be spent now to upgrade all the existing farms and tenancies?”
Nicole said, “We are re-thatching the cottage roofs, but that is less money out—it requires that we withhold wheat that might go to market, but then we have to accept a proportionate rate for a tenant’s lease as we’ve taken away some of his farmed profit. A huge expense would be the drainage around the farmlands, this hasn’t been addressed in any local’s recent memory.”
“We’ve had some surveyors out here earlier this year,” Ian chimed in, “and they concluded that the enclosure—that stone wall along the north ridge which was built in 1797—interrupted the natural drainage. But then, it’s not so simple as demolishing the wall now, as nature has learned a new course.”
“But as nothing is impossible, I am guessing it is only a matter of the availability of funds to see the job done properly,” Trevor concluded.
Ian shrugged, allowing that this might well be true.
“What else needs immediate attention?” Trevor wanted to know.
“The church,” Nicole answered.
Ian concurred. “The building needs extensive repair and hasn’t seen a rector in many years.”
“We’ve contracted with Mr. Adams’ minister that he comes once a week just to give a mass, but there is none to administer to the spiritual needs of the abbey as a whole and the church and the parsonage rather sit empty. We had advertised to fill the position, but to no avail.”
Nicole could see her husband’s mind churning and imagined that he only wondered how his father before him could have neglected this estate so shamefully, and so unwisely—if it had been managed properly, it would be a very profitable entity.
Nicole left the morning room a while later, unsure of the earl’s sudden interest in Lesser House and unwilling as of yet to assign any emotion to it, neither suspicion nor enthusiasm. Truth be known, she also wasn’t sure if Trevor and Ian’s seeming agreeableness boded well or ill for her.
She shook her head and headed to the kitchens, giving brief life to the thought that she liked her life so much better only one week ago.
And when she entered the library only a few minutes after three in the afternoon and found her husband at the desk from which he’d read the newspaper yesterday, Nicole thought she might very well prefer to spend more time in her chambers. But she cast her eyes about the room, finding Franklin and Abby in their usual chairs by the hearth and Ian at the long table where he liked to spread out his books and papers. Lorelei sat near the tea table, and promptly poured a cup for Nicole as she slowly stepped into the room. Charlie and Henry were upon the setteeonce again, though she thought Charlie’s eyes seemed to stray fromRobinson Crusoeevery other second.
When Trevor realized her presence, he stood, which then had all the other men in the room doing the same, though they had never done so before. Nicole ignored them all, taking the cup from Lorelei, who had in her lap some fashion plates, though from where they’d come, Nicole could not guess. She tucked herself up in the window seat, now quite far away from Trevor at the other side of the room. Her fingers touched the book she’d left there several days ago, but she did not open it.
In a rather longsuffering tone, Lorelei said, “Might we please get on with plans for the dance, milady?”
Nicole did laugh at this, “Yes, dear Lorelei.”
“What dance is this?” Trevor asked, and while his gaze fixed on Nicole, it was Lorelei who answered.
Excitedly, Lorelei said, pivoting in her chair to face the earl fully. “The countess has said we could instigate the annual Hyndman Abbey Harvest Ball.” With a pretty smile, she added, “It’s where my mother and father met twenty years ago, right here.”
With a thoughtful frown, perhaps trying to draw forth memories, Trevor said, “I think I remember that, from when I was a boy.” To Franklin, he wondered, “Why did this not continue?”
Franklin only shrugged, perhaps not wanting to share his opinion that the former Lady Leven might have been behind the cancellation of so well-received an event.
Assuming he would find some reason to refuse them, Nicole spoke up. “We can make it happen with minimal cost. Hopefully, the people of Leven will be happy for the return of the assemblyand focus less on how frugal we will have to be to actually pull it off.”
But Trevor surprised her by nodding, and adding, “Send up to London, to Wentworth Manor, and to the dowager’s home, for extra staffing for that week. They’re already being paid, so that will save you having to hire locals for all the extra work.”
Lorelei clapped her hands together at this contribution—meaning that he would not gainsay their plans—while Nicole stared at him with a curious frown for his easy consent.
And then a man stood in the doorway, drawing everyone’s attention as he cleared his throat and showed each and every one of them a horrified and pained expression.
“Ah, Timsby,” said Trevor, rising from behind the desk. He waved the man inside the library.
Timsby, Nicole noticed, stepped carefully within the room, his narrowed eyes taking in the footmen sprawled upon the settee with books in hand, the petite Lorelei in her maid’s gown and mop cap, sitting pretty with a fine cup and saucer in hand, and of course at Franklin and Abby near the hearth, the latter snoring softly.
