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It wasn’t until she’d completed the task and begun taking stock of each individual stack that Mina began to see the true horror of what had taken place over the preceding years, the gradual erosion that had created something catastrophic.

“Oh, Papa,” Mina said despondently to the empty room. “What have you done?”

CHAPTER 6

Six Months Later

“Thank you, Emily,” Mina said with a little wave as the maid exited the steward’s quarters and traversed the gardens back to the main house. It had taken time and effort, but the house was in much better condition than when she’d first arrived. Rather than stale air and neglect, the air smelled of beeswax and sprigs of lavender she’d helped the maids collect and dry over the preceding months. The meals she managed to convince her father to eat were far better for him than whatever scraps and crumbs he’d gathered on his own. The linens were clean, the dust was wiped away, sunlight was allowed into the home once more. Turning to admire her surroundings, Mina knew none of it could have been possible if she’d had to do it on her own.

Contrary to her first impression, Ravenshire Manor had not been entirely abandoned; the staff had simply been whittled away to the barest of bones, everyone spread too thinly to complete every necessary task. They hadn’t taken note of Mina’s arrival until the next day when she’d walked into the main kitchens to see if there was any other food that she might bring to her father. Both she and the little chargirl had yelped in surprise, alarming a nearby footman and the very same cook who’d been employed when Mina had been a girl. Following a slightly tearful reunion, she and Cook sat with a plate of biscuits between them and discussed all that had taken place since Mina was last at Ravenshire Manor.

At first, the changes had been small—a few of the staff were released to find new employment elsewhere, some of the horses and livestock were sold off, household purchases were limited. Then, her father had become more reclusive, shrinking his world to only the steward’s cottage, hiding away and demanding he be left alone while he worked. Even after Mrs. Lange had been sent off with glowing recommendations from Sanderson and the other staff, her father had refused to allow anyone else to tend to his needs.

“I tried sending some of the girls over with portions of our meals,” Cook explained, “but he always turned them away. I might have taken offense if I hadn’t known him as long as I have.” She busied herself picking at some of the biscuit crumbs. “He insisted on obtaining his own food and supplies. We did our best to look in on him from time to time, but he was always so agitated whenever someone popped over. I regret that we were not more persistent.”

Mina covered the older woman’s chapped hands with hers. “I am certain you did the best that you could. It is impossible to help someone when they reject every offer you present.”

Cook replied with a wobbly smile that did not reach her cinnamon-brown eyes. “We should have written to you.” She gave a sad shake of her head. “Several times, we all thought it might be best, but you were off with your own life…your own family.”

“Well,” Mina began with a shaky sigh. “I am home now. I will do whatever I can to set things to rights.”

Cook and the remaining staff explained that the paring down of the positions at the home had been so gradual that they’d hardly realized what was happening until there was too much work and too few hands. “Three maids, three footmen, one gardener, a chargirl, and myself. No butler was hired after Sanderson retired. We’re all that’s left!” Cook exclaimed, voice filled with exasperation. “Can you imagine? This entire household with only us to see that it does not fall around us!”

“It is an impossible task; no one could blame any of you for struggling,” Mina rushed to reassure them.

“We’ve told Mr. Fletcher about the necessary repairs, but he either does not answer or he promises they will be handled next month. Always next month,” said one of the footmen as he shifted uncomfortably.

“What has the earl done about this?” Mina asked. The question had been buzzing in the forefront of her mind since her first review of her father’s paperwork. Surely, the earl must have noticed something was amiss by now?

“His Lordship hasn’t been in residence since…well, since before the last time we saw you, dear,” answered Cook. She looked to the others for confirmation, and all their heads nodded in unison. “Nor the viscount.”

Mina’s heart stuttered at the mention of Harry.

“Th—They have not?”

Had he really not returned since their last conversation? Could he have truly abandoned the place she knew he loved most in the world? Ravenshire Manor was his haven and his home; it was where he felt his mother’s memory, where he returned after hard weeks at school and when he needed to find peace after a grating interaction with his father. How had Harry survived without Ravenshire Manor for so long? The thought made her heart ache.

Cook shook her head. “Not once.” She lifted her rounded shoulder. “Though you’ll remember the earl hardly ever visited, and never when his son wasn’t in residence. With Viscount Ashcombe in London, he’s never bothered to travel this way.”

So, Harry was in London all this time? What was he doing there? With whom was he passing his time?

Mina gave herself a firm mental shake and forced her thoughts back to the matters at hand. The inattentiveness of the earl for such an extended amount of time had created the perfect environment for the decline of Ravenshire Manor. While stewards were expected to provide their employers with financial paperwork and accounting statements, those were merely a collection of numbers; a man could write anything he wished if he desired to deflect attention. Providing steady figures to the earl would have satisfied him enough to focus on more pressing matters, all while this estate, its employees, and the tenants working its land suffered from an accumulation of neglect. The financial issues had been blocked by a dam, but the dam was now leaking. One problem after another, one mistake after another, was catching up to Mina’s father, and she was the only one who had any hope of making reparations and saving them.

“No matter!” Mina chirped with a great deal more optimism than she felt. “I am here now, and we will find a way to fix this.”

It took Mina many weeks to filter through the bulk of her father’s papers. Hours upon hours were spent determining what was legitimate and what was nonsense, what could be salvaged and what must be sacrificed for the sake of focusing her efforts elsewhere. It was early summer, filled with buzzing insects and longer days, by the time Mina fully grasped how dire the financial situation was at Ravenshire Manor. It was another two months, still, before Mina was able to sort through the tangled mess and list priorities for reparations. That first day when she had all the work laid out before her, she had nearly collapsed beneath the weight of her desire to cry…but Mina was not one prone to histrionics. She was a woman of action.

Through her tireless efforts, she now understood that her father’s haste to marry her off all those years ago and send her away from Ravenshire Manor had been to protect her. He recognized that his mind was slipping, and he did not want her to be blamed for any mistakes. Many knew of Mina’s lessons, so simply claiming she was not involved in them was a shaky solution at best.

No.

She suspected he’d convinced himself that she needed to be safely outside the reach of reproach; unfortunately, his instincts had not extended to self-preservation. What must have begun as small mishaps, minor miscalculations, occasional slip-ups, began to litter the Ravenshire Manor ledgers until it was nearly impossible to tell what was real and what had been fabricated to disguise other errors. They had been piled atop one another, obscuring reality and allowing the problems to fester below. Mina was nauseated to realize that her once proud, meticulous father had either ignored the issues or had lost himself so fully that he could no longer grasp their depth. Either way, it was clear that he had remained in his position well past the time he should have resigned. Lord only knew how he had so skillfully managed to disguise his mistakes for so long, but their reckoning was nigh.

Money was not where it was supposed to be, foolish purchases had been made, and there were sales that should not have been performed. The earldom was in dire straits, but the most pressing matter was the fate of Ravenshire Manor. Despite what its name might imply, the property was not entailed to the Ravenshire Earldom; therefore, it could be sold, lost, or even forfeited to cover debts. Every precarious facade her father had erected was about to crumble around their ears, and Mina knew it might result in severe punishment for her father. She did not give the law enough credit to recognize that he was no longer of sound mind—not when the errors had been taking place for so long, and especially not when he presented as perfectly sane much of the time. The evenings were the most difficult times for him, but he might have a string of days where he recognized her, remembered why she was there, and allowed her to care for him without fuss. Other days were far more difficult.

After the third time that he’d strode into the steward’s office and, in a fit of rage that someone had “destroyed his system”, thrown about all of Mina’s carefully organized notes and stacks, she’d been forced to move her efforts into the lord’s study in the grand manor house. She’d shed silent tears as the stacks of work were carried away from the steward’s residence, feeling like she was somehow betraying her father by relocating his work, but knowing she would not survive starting over yet again. To soften the blow, she’d left behind enough empty ledgers and writing implements to keep him happily occupied as he toiled away on his imaginary problems.

Mina’s first instinct had been to have her father’s mental faculties examined and attested to in case the worst scenario was realized and he was prosecuted, but she would not be able to live with herself if he were institutionalized. Her father was not a madman; he was simply not himself any longer. What he had done was wrong, but she would do anything in her power to keep him from suffering for the rest of his days.