Page 48 of Mistress of Misfortune

Chapter 12

In the dining room Harshad sat down gingerly next to his new wife, still not convinced he should take this place at the master’s table. He smiled at Meredith, who was untying a large scroll, and then eyed Thorne.

“My wife has a proposal for the two of you,” Thorne said as she spread out the drawing of a large house nestled among gardens and fruit trees. “We are thinking of purchasing this property.”

“It is a little larger than Dredthorne,” Meredith told them, “but the house is perfectly suitable for a family, and the grounds are beautiful. The previous owners took their staff with them, so we will need to hire servants and gardeners and groundskeepers, and manage the dozen or so tenant farms. Oh, and there are apple and plum orchards that are quite productive. In all we think about fifty new hires, since Alistair’s men will be busy working with him on our horse-breeding venture.”

“I see.” Lucetta peered at the drawing. “What is that little manor there behind the great house? A dowager’s house?”

“It was, I believe,” Thorne said. “It will be your home, should you wish to come with us.”

Harshad frowned. “We do not need a house of our own, Master.”

“I am a housekeeper,” Lucetta put in. “I will be busy keeping your house.”

“Not if you agree to accept new positions in our household,” Meredith said. “Harshad, Alistair would like you and Lucetta to be our estate managers. Our partners in our business ventures. You would each have a percentage of the profits along with a salary.”

Lucetta’s eyes widened. “That is quite generous.”

“You will earn it. You will have the responsibility of overseeing the property and the staff, as well as our financials,” Thorne said. “Meredith and I will work with you as we make improvements to the house, hire new staff, and expand our investments. We will rely on your advice to plan our future.”

“I see.” Lucetta looked at her husband before she said, “What will become of Dredthorne Hall?”

“We will be continuing the repairs and renovations while we arrange to lease the property,” Meredith said. “It will be another of our investment ventures.”

“And if we wish not to go with you?” Harshad asked.

“Then we will leave you to look after Starling House for Mr. Branwen.” Thorne smiled. “I believe he has already spoken to you about the possibility, Lucetta.”

“Yes, he has.” She contemplated the drawing again before she regarded her husband. “Well, my dear, if you are in agreement with this scheme, I would like to go with the Thornes.” She eyed Meredith. “With the understanding that I will need time next fall when we are so blessed to increase our family.”

Harshad grinned. “We are having a baby. She will not say that.”

Meredith took hold of Thorne’s hand. “What a coincidence. So are we.”

“Well.” Her cousin took hold of her husband’s dark hand. “I daresay our children will grow up together at the new estate. Have you decided on a name for the house, Alistair?”

“Meredith and I have been arguing about it incessantly,” he assured her. “I think Thornhill has a strong ring to it.”

“So does bramble patch,” his wife said drily. “I wished for Merryweather.”

“Call the place Christmas House and be done with it,” Thorne drawled.

Lucetta eyed the bowl of roses in the center of the table. “What do you think of Rosethorne? It has rather a nice poetic ring to it. Speaks to life and love. The sweet and the prickly. And we are all rising to begin anew.”

Thorne exchange a look with Meredith before he smiled and nodded. “It is perfect.”

* * *

After dinner Thornestood with his wife in the reception room as they watched the first snow falling, carpeting the grounds around the hall in pure, glittering white. She shivered and pressed against his side, her hand slipping under his lapel to idly caress his hard chest.

“More of that, Mrs. Thorne, and you are for the bed chamber,” he warned her sternly.

“I am always for the bed chamber,” she chided, and then sighed. “So, we must leave tomorrow, and I think we will not be returning. It is a good feeling, but sad, too. How do you feel about that, Mr. Thorne?”

“Happy. Relieved.” He rested his cheek against the top of her head. “Ready.”

As they walked past the painted outer wall of the dining room, Meredith stopped and looked up at him. “What of Emerson’s journals? Harshad never had the chance to remove them from the cases. Do we dare to leave them behind?”