I admit I howled at that one, enough to briefly stir the farm boy, though he thankfully returned to the land of nod, while Miss Smith laughed with me. She really was a clever and engaging girl.
“Pray, tell me if anything has vexed you this year, Mr Jones.”
That question soured my mood a little, but I supposed it was inevitable, so there was little point whimpering about it.
“I grew up with the son of my father’s steward. The elder was a very respectable man, but the younger—”
“—was… less?” she guessed.
“Far, far less,” I said, to which she frowned.
“Shall I assume he did all the things bad boys do—gambling, cheating, theft, seductions, and so forth.”
“All that and worse.”
She frowned, but otherwise did not run screaming into the night, so her resilience was once again proven.
“My father stood as his godfather and gifted him a gentleman’s education.”
“I suppose that seems generous.”
The way she said it made me curious. “Seems? Not is?” I asked, careful to not appear placating.
She looked reluctant to be explicit but got over it quickly.
“It depends on whether he set him up tobe a gentleman. Regardless of his defects, it would be cruel to have a boy believe he was due an elevation in station, only to have it disappear at the last minute. Nobody likes to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.”
That idea set me back a pace. I had always believed my father was being generous. I thought he was too generous for my sake, but it had never occurred to me he might be too generous for that blackguard’s sake.
“That is a profound insight, Miss Smith. It never occurred to me that one could be too generous for the recipient’s sake.”
“Do not be cast down. It is not the sort of thing your upbringing would make you think of.”
“It certainly should! Part of my duty as a landowner is to support charities, and I may have to rethink some of my largess.”
“You have time and there is much to be said for erring on the side of generosity.”
Fascinated, I asked, “What about your background made you think of it.”
She stared at her hands a moment but regained her courage quickly.
“I was raised to be the wife of an estate owner, but such an outcome seems… unlikely. I have an overly ambitious mother and indolent father. My mother will never allow me to marry down, and my father will never exert himself to help us marry up—or even laterally. I am the master of unfulfilled hopes.”
I wanted to sigh in exasperation or smack her father but answered honestly. “I see no reason for you to give up hope. You have time, you are pretty and clever, and you have gumption.”
“I thank you for that, sir. Suppose we return to the subject of the disagreeable godson.”
It seemed I had made her uncomfortable, but I could do little to help. We were of such vastly different circles that it required the extraordinary coincidence of her grandfather buying my grandfather’s stolen pistols for us to have even met.
“My father left him £1,000 in his will—” I began, but she gasped, “That is extraordinarily generous.”
I sighed, and continued, truly wondering what my father was thinking, “—and the most valuable living in our gift, should he take orders.”
“He wanted to make him aclergyman?” she squeaked, stunned for once. “I hope you circumvented his ambitions. One may as well engage a fox to guard your henhouse.”
I chuckled, glad to see her restored humour.
“He asked for, and I happily gave him £3,000 in lieu of the living. I could have done nothing since he had not taken orders, or even finished the education my father gifted him, but I felt obliged to match my father’s wishes as closely as I could.”
