Page 39 of Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman

‘You’ve succeeded brilliantly. Miss Neville told me you are viewed as a model by other landowners; after the last few weeks working for you, I can readily understand why. But…’ he hesitated, not wishing to insult his host or insinuate he was angling for the position, ‘I’ve seen first-hand what an exhausting job it is. Perhaps, while you rest and recover, you might consider that it is now time to step back and take a less active role.’

‘Hire that full-time manager, you mean?’

‘That’s exactly what I’ve been urging, Mr Anders!’ Althea cried. ‘And not just to ease Uncle James’s burdens. Though we all trust it will be many years before George takes over for him, when he does, he will need an experienced manager to assist him.’

‘Much as I hate to admit it, that would be the wisest course,’ Bronning said, surprising Greville. ‘I probably should start searching for a good man to take over some of the responsibilities. The right man,’ he emphasised, giving Greville a significant look.

Was Bronning thinking of him for the post? A flash of excitement ran through him. It would be a challenge to have permanent charge of so large and complex an operation as Ashton Grove… But as he considered it further, the excitement faded.

He would be considered by society as merely an employee of Amanda’s father, beneath socialising with the daughter of house. Even worse, he would be here to see her come home, glowing with the success of her first Season, perhaps affianced. And later, when she returned as a bride, then a young wife, bringing her children on a visit to their grandfather.

At those images, his heart contracted with a pain so intense he almost gasped aloud. As challenging and interesting as the work was at Ashton, he could not bear to remain here and witness such moments, aching for a woman he’d deliberately sent out of his life.

Paradoxically, as much as his heart recoiled from standing by silently, watching her share her life and her bed with another man, he was equally torn by the thought of leaving Ashton, where the hills and hallways reverberated with the echo of her voice, her laughter.

Where he could ride nearly every day past the track leading to the Neville Tour, halt in the shadow of the tower, smell her perfume on the wind and hear again her ragged, panting breaths as he pleasured her…

As, soon, some other man would. No, better by far to leave here and take that government position, or enquire with cousin Nicky about finding some other property to manage.

‘Ashton is so well known an estate, I’m sure you’ll have no shortage of qualified applicants,’ he said, tacitly answering Bronning’s unspoken question.

‘Well, we must wish you luck with whatever enterprise you undertake,’ Bronning said, the eager light in his eyes fading. ‘I shall always be grateful for your assistance, and rest assured, you will find a warm welcome whenever you visit Ashton Grove.’

‘You honour me, sir,’ he replied. Much as he hated to disappoint his host—and tempting as it would be to take up the challenge of running Ashton Grove—as soon as he was certain Lord Bronning was beyond danger of a relapse, he meant to visit London. He’d press Nicky about the progress of his release from naval service and consult with him and the Admiralty about what came next.

London…where Amanda was. Immediately, unbidden, a wave of longing to see her again swept through him. Should he call on her there, bring her news from home, see if she was finding London as exciting and fulfilling as she’d always hoped? A heated excitement flared within his chilled heart at the prospect.

‘Well, Uncle, I see you’ve managed to finish your meal without collapsing into the soup,’ Althea’s tart tone interrupted his thoughts. ‘No lingering over brandy, though! It’s time for you to retire.’

‘See what I must endure, Mr Anders? She scolds like a fish-wife and is as persistent as my old nanny,’ Bronning grumbled, but with a twinkle in his eye. Nor did he demur as she called his valet to help him to his chamber.

‘I suppose you’ll be returning to your books,’ Althea said a touch wistfully as they walked out.

‘As you’ll return to yours in the library?’

‘Not if I can persuade you to a game of cards first. You’ve been working so hard, I think you deserve part of an evening to rest…and entertain me,’ she added with a grin.

It had been many nights since he’d allowed himself any diversion. It wouldn’t hurt, this once, to put off for a while his nightly wrestling with the ledgers and his seemingly incurable longing for Amanda Neville. ‘Very well.’

‘Excellent,’ she exclaimed. ‘How about piquet?’ At his nod, she said, ‘Let’s retire to the library. I’ll have Sands light the candles.’

Once they had settled there, cards dealt and lead determined, Greville said, ‘You deserve a reward for all your hard work, too. Everything has continued so smoothly, I’ve scarcely noticed a change of mistress.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, pinking with pleasure. ‘Managing a household is so much more complex and complicated than I’d ever imagined! There’s so much to know, from how to properly clean lamps to seating guests at a dinner to getting stains out of linen. Amanda worked much harder than I ever gave her credit for. I’m sorry now I was so…resentful of her last summer.’

‘I’m sure she’s put it all in the past.’

‘No doubt. She has so many more exciting things to occupy her now, I imagine she’s forgotten all about Ashton. I really don’t expect to see her again until she becomes betrothed, or maybe after she marries, when she returns to introduce her new husband to the neighbours. Lady Parnell will make sure that whoever she weds is a man of great influence and power. Except for occasional visits, I imagine they’ll reside in London or Windsor. It’s the life she’s always wanted, and no lady could be better suited or more deserving of it.’

Althea was only repeating what he’d already told himself, but hearing it none the less revived the pain, always simmering just beneath the surface of consciousness. Amanda was in London, striving to turn all her girlhood aspirations into reality—why should she spare a thought for those she had left behind?

If she recalled him at all, probably it was only with a sense of gratitude that he’d been gentlemanly enough to conceal their indiscretion and protect her plans.

A flicker of anger stirred. Why did he continue to torture himself over the lady, however wonderful she was? They might as well exist on separate planets, she in her sphere, he in his, both determined to become master of their respective realms. He’d wished her joy before she left and meant it.

He was too isolated here, he decided, trapped in a moment of time with only his memories for company. He should go to London as soon as possible, remind himself of what he wanted for the future and recall all the possibilities for love and success that existed beyond Amanda Neville.

‘Is something amiss?’ Althea’s concerned voice recalled him.

‘No, no. I’m only trying to mind my cards. What do you plan to do, once your uncle recovers?’ he asked, determined to steer the conversation to less painful channels.

‘I’ve convinced Uncle James to let me stay here. Though he never complains, I know how terribly hard it must have been for him to send Amanda to London, knowing she would make her grand match and never live at Ashton again. She’s the image of my Aunt Lydia, so it’s like he’s losing his wife all over again. I’m not as beautiful and perhaps not as clever, but I can certainly love him like a daughter. I hope we’ll be a comfort to each other.’

Greville now knew something himself about the anguish of losing one’s love…a precious gift he’d never known how much he’d treasure, until he let it slip away.

Shaking off the reflection, he said, ‘Somehow I don’t see you ending your days, knitting docilely at your uncle’s side. Surely there are gentlemen in Devon shrewd enough to appreciate a lass of your keen wit and charm. That is, if they don’t hear you bossing poor Lord Bronning about,’ he teased. ‘No man wants to live under cat’s paw!’

She threw down her last card and grinned triumphantly. ‘You’re just being disagreeable because I beat you.’

‘So you have, minx,’ he said, looking at the final trick. ‘Here I’ve listened attentively as you pour out your soul, and you, heartless scapegrace, were fleecing me. I’d best retire to the estate books before you win my last groat.’

‘We’ll have to play again, so you may win it back. I did enjoy the game! Thank you, and goodnight, Greville.’

‘Goodnight to you, too, Althea.’

He smiled as he walked to the office. She’d be a sprightly handful for some man some day, he thought, quite certain she’d not end up living at Ashton, a comfort to her ageing uncle. Most likely she’d wed some local boy and reside in the neighbourhood, ordering her own servants about between returning to Ashton to check on her uncle and give orders to his. Unlike Bronning’s brilliant daughter, who would shine like a luminous star in her far-distant universe.

From within the churning mass of loneliness, pain, regret, resentment, pride in what he was doing and sadness for what he’d leave behind emerged the fervent desire for Lord Bronning to recover quickly. It was time for Greville to leave Ashton Grove and begin carving out his own universe.

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