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Chapter Six
After his first full day at Everleigh, Florent was confused. The house party was pleasant, although he found it odd that the gentlemen were so divided in their attentions. The married, older gentlemen who appeared to be the fathers of debutantes were anxious to be away from the women, interested in whatever sorts of sport Everleigh might have to offer. On the other hand, the single gentlemen seemed preoccupied with the women. Understandable, Flor allowed, but still, it resulted in an odd situation to find himself in. He was an eligible, single gentleman. He was a nobleman but not a peer. Not yet, anyway. He was heir to his father’s viscountcy so while he was only currently Mr. Alcott, he would one day, hopefully not too soon, be Viscount Alcott with all the responsibilities and privileges that would entail. In the meantime, he worked very hard to increase what he was to inherit for his own benefit and for the rest of his family, at least his remaining sister.
But no one seemed to appreciate that fact. At least not in a manner that he could accept. Of course, most probably weren’t aware and perhaps even thought him odd for his preoccupation with his father’s estate, but when he had learned how dire the situation was, he couldn’t just gad about and ignore it. He’d had all his younger siblings to think about besides his eventual inheritance.
Now, though, Alcott was on steady standing, thriving even. It was time to consider his options. And he had one more responsibility toward Alcott. He would need to produce heirs to take his own place when the time came. A shudder shivered through him. It really was an odd situation, always contemplating someone’s death. His father’s, his own. All for a chunk of land his ancestors had claimed.
That was the way of things. But for the first time in his adult life, Florent Alcott was actually in the strange situation of being wealthy and not too terribly busy. It was likely that for some this wasn’t a strange situation. It was possible some of his peers’ ancestors had not abused their estates and left it impoverished. Or even more likely, his peers might not find out until they actually inherit.
Florent was grateful his father hadn’t kept it from him, even though it curtailed the carefree carousing he might have otherwise engaged in. The sort of thing his brothers enjoyed but he had never had the freedom for. But Florent couldn’t regret the responsibilities he had taken on so young. He knew no different, so there was nothing to lament.
But he didn’t really know how to socialize.
Take the young women at this house party for example. What was he supposed to talk to them about? Florent strongly suspected they wouldn’t much care to know about the foaling taking place at Alcott this year, aside from perhaps to admire the baby horses when they were safely arrived, cleaned up, and presentable. They wouldn’t want to hear about how he had agonized over the bloodlines and then worried about the timing of the births and whether or not the mares were eating enough.
“Shall we go shooting, Mr. Alcott?” Lord Bathurst called to him, and Florent tried to put his concerns behind him. As his mother had reasonably pointed out, they were well staffed with knowledgeable grooms. He really ought to leave the matter with them. But Florent had built up the entire herd of animals who were now at home on their extensive lands. He took the matter very seriously.
Smoothing a pleasant expression over his face, Florent smiled at the baron who had thus hailed him. “I’d be delighted, thank you.” It was really the only acceptable response. And perhaps he could learn a little bit about the man’s daughter. Lady Isabelle seemed to be a pleasant young woman. She might make an excellent viscountess one day.
“Tell me about Alcott,” the older man invited, or perhaps demanded was the better word as they walked toward the copse of trees well beyond the house.
Florent gritted his teeth. He had always been too busy for the social whirl of the Season, but he supposed as the heir to a now wealthy viscountcy, he would have to expect that he was considered an eligible bachelor. Of course he was, he scoffed at himself. He should have thought of that before attending this event. While he hoped to possibly find someone he could consider for himself, everyone else was doing the same thing for themselves or their family members. He silently exhaled his frustrations and wracked his brain for an appropriate response.
“Well, Alcott is just the next estate over, so the land is quite similar in makeup. We even work similar crops and flocks. Have you discussed Everleigh with the earl or Adelaide?”
“I have a little. But of course, since Adelaide is wed now, it’s not as likely to become a matter of real interest to me, now, is it?”
Well, that wasn’t beating about the bush, was it? Florent fought an inappropriate laugh. In his mind it was actually a fully appropriate time to laugh, but the gentleman was unlikely to view it as such.
He cleared his throat trying to think how best to answer the question.
“I’m trying my hand at cotton this year,” he finally offered.
“Cotton? Isn’t that a bit daft out here so near the straight?” It was at least an intelligent question, Florent comforted himself. And the man hadn’t actually asked for a count of the coins in his coffers.
“We might get a touch too much rain, but we’re also the warmest part of the country. Some are having success with it and with the import taxes so high right now, it’s a profitable business if you can make it work, so we thought to try it.”
“Interesting. I haven’t been one to innovate much at Bathurst. But younger men these days are much more adventurous.”
Florent stifled his laughter once more. He hadn’t considered his crops an adventure but perhaps they were. Not the sort that Lady Constance enjoyed but an adventure nonetheless.
“How are the plants faring, then?” Bathurst demanded, seemingly unconcerned that his booming voice might scare away the birds they were purported to be hunting. Florent supposed the invitation to shoot was just a way of getting him alone for questioning. He was clearly not of a sufficiently devious mind to be able to recognize the signs.
“We had a decent crop this year. Well enough that we will try an extra field next year.”
Bathurst nodded. “Smart not to go all in until you know. None of your other crops suffered from the changes?”
“Not in the least. In fact, I consider it always a good idea to have a diverse range of crops to prevent widespread problems. And we try to rotate the fields from year to year. I haven’t yet tried allowing many fields to lie fallow. But so far, I haven’t found I’ve needed to consider it.”
“So you’re doing well for yourself it would seem.” The older man couched his words as a compliment, but Florent could almost see the older gentleman estimating his worth down to the nearest farthing. It was laughable on the one hand, but it also had the result of making him far less interested in pursuing Lady Isabelle. He knew it wasn’t the girl’s fault, but he couldn’t help feeling like an animal on the market. Shouldn’t the man be more interested in his character? Would that not be important for the man’s daughter? While it was responsible of Lord Bathurst to ensure any potential suitors were comfortable, Florent was of the opinion that a father should concern himself with how a man would treat his daughter, not how much he could spend on her.
Florent managed to get through the rest of the morning with the older gentleman by his side. He was able to ascertain that Bathurst was small for an earldom, and the man didn’t really know how to turn his fortunes around, merely following the same course that his father and grandfather had pursued. But he was a good-natured old fellow and it wasn’t the worst day of Florent’s life spent in the man’s company, so he was able to return to the house in relatively good spirits.
“Where have you been off to?” His sister greeted him upon his return, making Florent laugh.
“I would ask you the same question.”
“Really?” she demanded with a frown. “I’ve been asking everyone where you had gone off to. Only Lady Constance seemed to have any idea. She said she saw you going into the woods with Lord Bathurst and you both had guns. I had begun to worry.”
