Page 3 of Waiting for Love (The Taverstons of Iversley #3)

T hat was torture. Benjamin had told Jasper the offer of the steward’s job at Chaumbers was a godsend. And it was. Yet during the past few hours, posing as a wedding guest who belonged in such exalted company, he felt as though he was being tempted by a thousand devils. Kindly devils. The most dangerous kind.

The duties of a steward were all-inclusive. In addition to keeping the books for the estate, Benjamin would be overseeing its management: hiring staff and firing them if there was cause; making sure the tenants were producing and paying their rents; managing the managers of the livestock; settling any disputes among the tenants or staff; overseeing the care of the land and any improvements the earl should wish. Benjamin looked forward to the challenge. His education had prepared him and his own innate bent toward organization worked in his favor. The time he had spent at Chaumbers as a guest of the elder Taverston brothers had imbued him with a deep love for the place. Truly, he was made for this job.

But his history also worked against him. Were it any other estate, or any earl other than Jasper, Benjamin would settle comfortably into the role. He’d know his place. And his duties would not include sitting at the earl’s wedding breakfast with the earl’s brother and sister; of that, he was certain.

Thank God the celebration was over. Or close enough that he could leave.

Shortly after Crispin’s toast, a toast of dubious taste that had nevertheless elicited raucous laughter, Jasper and Vanessa exited the hall to embark upon their honeymoon. The wedding guests followed them out to the drive to give them a cheering send-off.

Since Napoleon had cancelled grand tours of the continent for Englishmen, the happy couple was heading to a lakeside cottage near Binnings, Crispin’s inheritance, a place they called quaint, and Benjamin called palatial. He had spent a month there with the Taverstons nearly a decade ago. He remembered aching with envy and gratitude as they swam, boated, hiked among the trees, went riding, picnicked…while servants of every stripe catered to their whims.

It had not been the wealth and privilege that attracted Benjamin to the Taverstons. It was the family closeness. Their generosity. But he could not deny that he was jealous of their ease.

Jasper had never been one to flaunt his position, heir to the earldom though he had been. He did not spend ostentatiously; yet Benjamin found the very carelessness of Jasper’s attitude toward money almost as painful to witness as profligacy would have been. His own situation—son of a laborer, attending Oxford on scholarship—was so damnably different.

Watching the newlyweds ride off in the earl’s well-sprung coach, accompanied by liveried outriders, with its trailing carriage stuffed with baggage and servants, made Benjamin feel almost physically ill. It was all so extravagantly fine. The long, straight portion of the avenue leading from the estate was lined by beech trees that had been coaxed and shaped to identical heights, their autumn leaves coppery in the afternoon sun. Earls even tamed nature to their fancy.

Benjamin didn’t begrudge his old friend any of it. But the divide between their world and his was unbreachable. No matter how chummily Crispin behaved. No matter how insistent Jasper was in calling up their shared past as if it still mattered. No matter how sweetly amusing Olivia was.

With Jasper and Vanessa’s entourage fading from sight, the cheers quieted to chatter and muted laughter, rustling pelisses, and boots clomping on manicured grass. Benjamin supposed the locals would stay through teatime. The few Londoners would spend the night. Family, which apparently included Alice and Viscount Haslet—Hazard, he might as well call him since everyone else did—would likely stay longer.

There was enough bustle that his own absence should not be remarked upon. For excuse, should one be needed, he could say he had to return to Hannah, who would be wide awake by now and looking for him. Not only an excuse, it was the truth.

He edged his way through the twenty-odd guests who were slowly filtering back toward the house, wondering the politest way to take leave. Who was the host? Or was the dowager the hostess? He had learned a good deal of society protocol over the years, but the finer points still escaped him. Four years in the wilds of Canada hadn’t helped.

Ah . There was Reg, standing just at the edge of the drive. That would be the most convenient out.

He strode closer. “Mr. Taverston? I should make my goodbyes. I—”

Reg turned, a faint grimace on his face that quickly dissolved as he said, with barely perceptible irony, “You’re leaving, Mr. Carroll?”

The exchange of “misters” sounded pretentious even to his ears. A long-forgotten memory flashed to the fore and Benjamin had to choke back a laugh. Young Master Reginald, who must have been ten or twelve, called him “Ben” the summer he’d taught the boy how to spit.

They’d been playing a bastardized version of cricket. Reg shouted something and a particularly large and evidently nasty-tasting bug flew right into his mouth. The boy stood there drooling, trying to peel legs and wings and antennae from his tongue while his brothers laughed at his misfortune as only older brothers could. Apparently, Reg had imbibed as gospel the lesson that gentlemen did not spit. He did not know how! Benjamin stood beside him, desperately attempting to keep a straight face, while explaining how to let saliva pool in one’s mouth to expectorate.

“Yes, I’m leaving,” he managed to say. “I told Miss Jamison, Hannah’s nanny, I wouldn’t be late. I suppose I should find your mother first?”

Reg pursed his lips thoughtfully, then chuckled. “I don’t know who you should find. All I am sure of is that it isn’t me. But I will pass your goodbyes along if you’d like.”

“Thank you. It was wonderful seeing everyone and I don’t wish to be rude…”

“Oh, I don’t believe the breakfast will continue much longer. For Georgiana’s sake, I hope not. She tires easily.” Reg smiled sheepishly. “I’m not supposed to refer to such, but there it is.”

He sounded pleased and proud. Benjamin smiled back.

“Will you come around tomorrow?” Reg asked. “Jasper asked me to show you where the old account books are kept. And there are files in Jasper’s office that deal with estate matters that I’m sure he looked at, then shoved right back into the cabinets.”

It was natural that Jasper expected him to dive into the work. He’d intended to. But now he balked. “Perhaps not tomorrow. I thought I’d wait until your guests left Chaumbers. I don’t want to disturb anyone.”

“Disturb anyone? Us? ” His eyes widened, incredulous. “Is that why you’re staying at the Danforths? You are aware we have entire empty wings in this monstrous place.”

“Well, that is only partly the reason. I got to know the Danforths quite well over the years, you see, and I thought Hannah might be more comfortable there. Out of the way.”

Reg gave him a narrow look. “You know us better than that. Hannah would not be ‘in the way.’”

It must appear he was shirking his duties, since he had avoided coming to Chaumbers for the past three months and shunned the work even now that he was here. But that wasn’t the case. He had been working, learning what he needed to know.

“I’m ready to take up the reins, but first, I’ve been going over various affairs with Mr. Wilkerson and Mr. Tate.” Jasper’s solicitor and his man-of-business, respectively, both in London. “I was surprised to learn of the extent and variety of Iversley’s assets. The Mayfair home and Chaumbers are only a small part…” This was not going well. Reg’s frown had deepened. “I realize that my duties will be focused mainly on Chaumbers, but as Iversley wants to make improvements to the property, I needed to better understand the finances.” Benjamin heard how defensive he sounded, so he switched tack. “I don’t mean to put my nose into your business, but the house deeded to you in Bath is a substantial asset in itself.”

“The townhouse? An asset ?” Reg scowled. “It is a home . My great-aunts live there. I am not interested in selling it out from under them.”

Great-aunts? Tate had called them “the great-aunt and her companion.” Well, it wasn’t pertinent.

“Of course not. But my understanding is they are both quite elderly and utilize only the ground floor. The first and second floors have a separate entrance and are entirely habitable, though likely in need of a thorough dusting. It is in a fashionable district. Good apartments in Bath are currently difficult to come by. You might consider leasing it out.”

Reg looked surprised, then thoughtful. “I suppose I might.”

“That was, Mr. Tate gave me to understand, your father’s intention.”

“My father’s? How do you mean?”

“Your father mentioned to Tate that he wanted to ensure you had an income should you decide against entering the church. A lease won’t bring in as large an income as the livings your father had to dispose of, had you taken all four, but it isn’t an insignificant amount.”

Reg just stared. Then he ducked his head, frowning, before looking up again.

“It astonishes me how greatly I underestimated my father,” he said in a quiet tone. “He understood me better than I thought. And I never really knew him at all.”

In equally serious measure, Benjamin answered, “I believe that is the way it should be. In the natural way of these things.”

His own father-son relationship had been the opposite. His father had been a brutal drunkard who’d attempted to beat his son’s sensibilities out of him. If not for the local vicar taking him in hand, recognizing his abilities… It was quite likely his father would have succeeded.

Reg cleared his throat. “This is very welcome news. Since you’ve seen the family balance sheets, you must know Jasper reinstated my allowance. I told him not to. But then, the pay I’ve been receiving for my translations does not stretch as far as I thought it would. I want to set Georgiana’s dowry aside for our children.” He trailed off. “I apologize. That’s quite an earful.”

“Not at all. It’s my job.”

“Not to look after me, it isn’t. Though I appreciate it.” His brow furrowed and he looked at his shoes. “How-how much do you think?”

Reg was obviously uncomfortable with the discussion. The quality did not discuss money. But Benjamin’s footing was now more secure.

“So long as the furnishings are included, I believe you can ask upwards of eighty guineas per annum.”

Reg blinked. Then said, “But I wouldn’t want my aunts disturbed.”

“If you’d like, I can screen the applicants for you.”

“That isn’t necessary,” Reg started to protest, but then thought better of refusing. “You must take a percentage then.”

He chortled. “Your brother already overpays me. Let me do this.”

After a pause, Reg gave a curt nod. “Thank you.” Then he added, “Perhaps you might drop a word into Jasper’s ear that this was Father’s idea. Otherwise, you know Jasper. He’ll simply raise my allowance.”

Benjamin snorted. Because that was exactly what Jasper would suggest. And Reg should let him because it wouldn’t put the tiniest dent in Jasper’s fortune. He wondered how Crispin and Reg could be so blind to the injustice. So content with their lots.

Probably because they were wealthy enough. Moreover, they were gentlemen. Status was worth more than mere money.

“You’ll come around tomorrow then?” Reg said, withdrawing a step. “Most everyone will leave in the morning. No point waiting for the rest of us to depart. Georgiana and I will be here for the next few months. She wants Alice to stay. And Crispin is leaving tonight.”

“Tonight! To go where?”

“He says London.”

“But he won’t get there until dawn!”

Reg shrugged. “I’ve given up trying to keep track of Crispin. Apparently he believes the war effort would collapse without his unceasing efforts.”

“Would it?”

With a laugh, Reg said, “Probably.”

Benjamin had no further justification for staying away from Chaumbers. If Reg pressed him again, what on earth could he say? That he was afraid of Olivia?

Oh, good God. Enough was enough. He’d been skulking around London for three months hiding from the memory of her tear-stained face. He should never have let it come to that. He should have absented himself from the Taverston home as soon as he realized her puppy-like devotion had turned to a fourteen-year-old’s infatuation. Selfishly, he hadn’t wanted to distance himself from the Taverstons. Pathetically, he was probably pretending he was another brother.

But the one thing he was not guilty of was trying to weasel his way into the family by way of securing the affections of their underage sister! The fear of being accused of such a thing could still raise a cold sweat. He should never have gotten himself into such a stupid situation.

He was not going to make the same mistake twice. He knew his place. Caretaker of Chaumbers. There were a few adaptations he’d picked up in his travels, workarounds to some of the stultifying traditions of English lords and their tenants…if Jasper allowed him enough latitude…

He wanted this job as much as he needed it.

“Yes, I will be around tomorrow. But I don’t want to start off with account books and piles of paper shoved into cabinets. I’d like to ride about the estate. See what, if anything, has changed from what I remember of it. That is, if I might borrow a horse.”

Reg grinned. “We’ll borrow two.”