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Henry was slow to answer. His thoughtful, considering gaze felt penetrating at times, and I was nearly positive my brother could see into my thoughts. He nodded and stood, stretching his arms. “I’ve been sitting for far too long. A ride would do me good.”
He marked his place and put the heavy tome on a nearby table, then followed me from the room.
“Meet me at the stables?” I asked, for I was ready to leave, but Henry needed to change into riding attire. He nodded and left.
The wind picked up as I made my way across the gravel drive toward the stables, and I did not feel relief until I passed under the wide archway into the courtyard. I directed a groom to saddle both Jasper and Henry’s horse, then waited. For a man so often lost in books or unwilling to attend social functions, Henry was a dab hand at the curricle and a bruising rider. He was also wise, and I was eager for his advice.
We were on the road and heading toward Bumpton Hall not long later. It was only a few miles from Chelton, blessedly situated off the road and neatly pressed against the yellowing hillside. The grass was long, lacking enough sheep to keep it trimmed. But that was something I could rectify eventually. If not with animals, then at least with a scythe.
The sun glared overhead, but not strongly enough to ward off the late December chill. It was only a few days until Christmas, and the air felt like it. Bumpton came into view as we rounded the bend, and I halted Jasper so I could look at the house from this distance.
Henry did the same and waited beside me. “What are we doing here, Ben?” he asked, though the tone of his voice implied he was halfway to guessing the purpose for this trip already.
“I’m considering purchasing an estate.”
He nodded softly. “No one has occupied Bumpton in at least a year. They’ve had to lower the price, or so I’ve been told, because it won’t sell.”
How the devil did he know that? “It also needs extensive repairs, so it might not be worth the headache.”
Henry lifted one shoulder. “We will not know until we look at it. Is someone meeting us here?”
“The owners have employed a groundskeeper to watch over the place. He will let us into the house.”
Silence settled between us, and though the conversation had naturally reached its conclusion, I was hesitant and did not urge Jasper forward.
“What is it that’s worrying you?” Henry asked.
He recognized my delay for what it was—fear. This was why I’d really asked him to accompany me. Henry’s quiet nature had the added benefit of making him extremely observant, and his extensive reading made him wise. I was not foolish enough to believe him simple minded, but rather the opposite. A man so well-read, so quiet and unobtrusive, was certainly far more knowledgeable than I could ever hope to be, despite the fact that he’d joined the military instead of attending university. I would trust his opinion on the state of this house implicitly.
I was afraid he would deem it a good buy. This was an enormous step to take in my life, and I was apprehensive about taking it. The responsibility and shackles it would provide me were looming, and without a wife in mind, I feared it was too soon to make this move toward independence and responsibility.
“So many things are worrying me,” I said lightly. “From this distance, the house looks well enough, but I am certain it will only be a decrepit mess upon closer inspection.”
“We shall not know until we move closer.”
I ran a hand over my face and turned toward my brother. “What if I am not ready for this, Hen? What if I botch it all?”
“Then you’ve squandered your inheritance and will be forced to live with me at Sedwick. Two aging bachelors who spend our days hunting and our nights by the fire.”
“That is a terrifying prospect.”
“Then let us both hope you do not make the wrong choice.” Henry shot me a grin, then urged his horse forward. I chuckled softly and followed him.
The house was not anywhere near as large as Chelton, but it was made out of the same light stone, and with the sun shining on it and the overgrown hedges about, it was a blend of classic architectural beauty and wild landscape.
“It’s a lovely house,” Henry called as we rode up. “But the roof leaves something to be desired.”
The obvious need for repair did not lend itself to any confidence that the attics were not already ruined by rain. We stopped in the small, circular drive and dismounted. A man with overlong hair beneath his cap and a dingy coat stepped out of the far stables and came toward us.
“Mr. Bradwell, is it?” he called.
“Yes,” I replied. “Good day, Mr. Tanner. I’ve brought my brother with me.”
“Tanner,” he said, implying that he was happy without the addedmister. “I’ll be showing you around.”
We followed him to the front door and waited while he produced a key and unlocked it for us. As the door creaked open, the musty smell from inside assaulted us at once.
“Needs a bit of airing out,” Tanner said. “But it will come about right enough.”
