Page 70 of Dare to Risk it All

His little brother shrugged. “Oh, well, I walked around with the fellow you hired to make the report. It was jolly interesting, actually. He said you’ll have his written recommendations by the week after next, but I gleaned what I could, so you’d know what was coming,” Ollie said, adding. “I’d like to help, Raphe. I was thinking I could act as an apprentice to whatever land agent you take on. If… I If you don’t mind, that is.”

Raphe nodded, looking at the young man with respect. “I should be grateful to have you, but your mother—”

“We’ll handle her,” Sylvester said, his voice firm. “We’re not children anymore, Raphe. We can stand on our own feet. This time we’d like to get you back on yours.”

Raphe swallowed uncomfortably, his throat having grown inexplicably tight. “Thank you,” he managed.

“Can we go inside now?” Greer asked, looking far more delighted than the appalling list of repairs would suggest she ought.

“Is it safe?” Raphe asked his brother dubiously. “I don’t want to lose my wife under an avalanche of falling timbers. I’m rather fond of her.”

Sylvester grinned, shaking his head. “No, there’s no great danger. Only keep to the right on the stairs. The left side is rotten,” he added sheepishly.

Ollie gave a bark of laughter. “Oh, Raphe, you should have seen. It was the funniest thing. Sy fell through halfway up. All I could see was his legs waving about from below. You should have heard him curse. I swear I learned a dozen new words I’d never heard before.”

“It wasn’t funny from where I was—”

“Dangling?” Ollie suggested, and then doubled over with mirth.

Sylvester sighed. “Come on. I’ve not opened them yet, but I’ve piled all the estimates in what was the library.”

They made their way indoors, Ollie still chuckling with amusement as he followed.

“Goodness,” Greer said, staring up at the high ceilings as she paused in the entrance hall. “How many bedrooms does it have?”

“Twelve,” Sylvester replied, “plus servants' quarters, of course.”

“Raphe,” she said, a scolding note audible in her voice. “It’s far grander than you led me to believe.”

She gave a little squeal of alarm as a mouse scuttled out of a corner and darted back in again.

Raphe just looked at her and quirked an eyebrow.

“It startled me,” she said defiantly. “And it is grand. I love it already. We shall repair it and make it a wonderful family home again.”

“Hmmm,” Raphe said, guiding her around a hole in the parquet and trying not to notice how spongy the floor beneath his boots felt. They carried on into the library. It was a large room, a double aspect with astonishing views. The vast stone fireplace looked just as it always had, but the books were all gone, long since sold off, and the shelves that ran from floor to ceiling were falling to bits.

“What a wonderful room,” Greer breathed, turning in a circle as she stared around her, apparently oblivious to the swathes of cobwebs, potent smell of damp, and the fact there was a large hole in the ceiling. A small piece of plaster fell with a quiet flurry of dust.

Raphe sighed and made his way to the fireplace, where a stack of neat envelopes awaited him on the mantel. He glanced at Sylvester, who returned an expression of sympathy.

“May as well get it over,” his brother said. “But whatever happens, we’ve got our own two hands. I saw what you did at Dare’s estate, Raphe. I can work too. Between the three of us, we’ll get the job done, I swear.”

“Of course we will,” Ollie added stoutly.

Raphe felt a swell of affection for his brothers and smiled, feeling a little more able to face the contents of the quotes. He picked them up and carried them to the wide windowsill, set down the book and the quotes, and reached for a pencil.

Everyone was quiet whilst he read each estimate in turn. Silently, he jotted down the totals in the book, his stomach twisting in knots as he realised just how bad the damage would be.

“Well?” Greer asked expectantly.

He looked up to discover her almost bouncing with impatience.

“It’s… bad,” he said. “Bearing in mind I don’t yet have the quote for the digging the ditches and the land clearance, and the estimates I’ve made for investing in machinery are only my best guesses—”

“Yes, yes,” Sylvester said impatiently, waving his hand to make him get on with it.

“Over fifteen thousand pounds,” Raphe said, speaking quickly to get it over with. The amount of money made him feel somewhat giddy, like the floor was shifting beneath his feet.