Page 17 of Foes, Friends and Lovers
Bellamy Hall was something different, a construct that touched some chord inside him and set it thrumming. The concept alone, what he’d understood of it thus far, was intriguing, and the fact that it had existed for so many years, running comfortably along, said a great deal about its long-term financial viability.
Yes, it was different, but was different necessarily a bad thing?
Especially in the current agricultural climate.
He sipped and couldn’t help but think that such a progressive collective enterprise would be of considerable interest to his brother-in-law, Devlin, and to Devlin’s friend, Lord Grayson Child.
Gregory had joined those gathered around the fireplace. While Alice, Millie, and Julia discussed the progress of Millie’s apprenticeship, on the opposite side of the hearth, Vernon, Percy, and Joshua were debating the prospects of taking some of their wares into Kettering one day soon. Possibly on the day of one of the major hunt meets.
In between those groups, Caitlin stood sipping her tea and listening to the three painters, who were making a bid to have her approve some sort of venture, about which she transparently remained unconvinced.
Gregory sipped and glanced around the company again.
One of the most impressive aspects of the household was its collegiality. Everyone seemed content, settled, and at ease with everyone else. He’d detected not the slightest hint of strain or tension, nor the faintest whiff of jealousy. With a group this size, all passionate about their various enterprises, that was nothing short of remarkable.
Then again, either Minnie or Timms chose these people.
That said, the group were clearly putting their best face forward for the new owner. He would definitely be checking the accounts and learning more about the Hall fund to assure himself the rosy picture with which he’d been presented was accurate. Despite his worldly cynicism, he suspected he would find it was.
His gaze shifted to Caitlin Fergusson, and he wondered how much his chatelaine had to do with the settled and positive atmosphere. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she stood firmly at the center of the household, the lynchpin of its multi-spoked wheel. It was she who managed this miscellany of people—even more difficult, of artisans—and interestingly, despite her being barely older than Millie and the painters, everyone there unquestioningly accepted her rule. Even Percy and Vernon readily bowed to her direction, which, given their backgrounds, was really rather strange.
Who is she?
He wanted to know. In that respect, he was eager to meet the estate’s steward and hear what he had to say.
He sipped and watched and continued to ponder, especially regarding Caitlin Fergusson, her role at Bellamy Hall, and how he might go about filching the reins of the estate from her.
When the gathering in the drawing room broke up, with the ladies leading the way up the stairs and the gentlemen following soon after, Gregory excused himself and retreated to the library, the better to put all he’d learned into some sort of perspective.
Or more accurately, to assemble the disparate pieces of information into a picture he hadn’t previously seen.
The lamps had been left alight, but turned low, which suited him. He crossed to the tantalus and examined the decanters, then poured himself a glass and sipped. The brandy was more than acceptable. “Not a bad drop.”
Taking the glass, he retired to one of the armchairs by the fire, sat, sipped, and replayed much of the evening’s conversations, remembering nuances and noting the questions he hadn’t had a chance to ask.
Especially those about his chatelaine.
Eventually, he drained the glass, set it on the table, and left the room. As he climbed the stairs, the house was quieting, but not yet night-silent.
He walked into his turret room to find Snibbs in attendance, hanging up the clothes Gregory had earlier shed.
After closing the door, he walked to one of the armchairs, sat, and asked, “So what have you learned?”
As he’d expected, Snibbs had the entire household committed to memory, and the details of the occupants matched what Gregory had learned. He was more interested in what Snibbs had to say regarding the staff.
“A happier, more contented lot I’ve yet to meet.” Snibbs looked vaguely perturbed. “Never known a place so serene, truth be told. It’s almost off-putting.”
“Hmm. What does Melton say?”
“Same as me.” Snibbs shook out a shirt. “He finds the peace and calm remarkable and said it’s the same for the outdoor staff.”
Gregory pondered that. “Did he mention whether there’s been any noticeable change since last we were here?”
“Well, he said they always were a settled bunch, but they’re even more so now. He also said to tell you he’s seriously impressed by the stable and the carriage works.”
Gregory frowned. “Carriage works?”
“Apparently. And they have their own blacksmith and forge as well. Melton’s in alt.”
