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“Hardwick Manor and lands?” James asked in disbelief. “I would have come to you immediately.”
“I've just paid the bills for all the repairs,” Bestnay said. “It can't be true.”
James looked hard at Bess. “I put in the last of the new stock last week.… I wouldn't put it past him.”
“That rotten swine!” Bess cursed. “Robert, I want you to ride into Derby to the chambers of Messrs. Funk and Entwistle and bring one of them to Hardwick.” She glanced at the library clock. “James and I will meet you there around two.”
At precisely one o'clock, Bess, accompanied by Chatsworth's steward, arrived at Hardwick. She held on to her temper as she inspected the repairs on the beloved old manor, then asked her brother, James, to show her the new flocks of sheep and herds of cattle she had purchased. She asked him what crops he planned to sow and gave him every opportunity to confess what he had done. When he was not forthcoming, Bess asked casually, “What income did Hardwick bring in last year?”
James looked affronted at the question. “Nothing. You know I had to put a mortgage on it to get out of debt,” he said defensively.
“With the new livestock, what income do you expect this year?” she asked innocently.
“The first year I'll do well to even make the mortgage payment. This place has never paid for itself, Bess.”
“Then you don't think it's worth much?” she asked lightly.
James changed his tune immediately. “I wouldn't say that. The manor comes with five hundred acres and two tenant farms. It's strange you should ask; I was thinking only yesterday about putting it up for sale.”
“Only yesterday? And what price were you thinking of asking?”
“Five hundred pounds.”
Bess showed surprise. “So much?”
“I have to pay off the mortgage and have enough left to get a house in London.”
“London, is it? That can be very expensive.”
“It's none of your damned business!”
“None of my business?” Bess's voice was deceptively low. “When I've just paid for repairs on the manor and bought you all new livestock?”
“I didn't ask—you offered. Besides, you can afford it, Lady Moneybags.”
“James, I could strike you. Not for the petty names you call me; I have a thick skin. It's your deceit that angers and sickens me! Behind my back you have put Hardwick up for sale with an agent in another county.”
“Hardwick is my birthright—I can sell it if I wish!” he shouted.
“Then you can sell it to me. Ah, we have visitors, I see.” They made their way from the stables back to the manor. “James, I believe you have met Master Entwistle, Attorney at Law? I asked him to meet me here to handle my purchase of Hardwick.”
James was thrown off balance by the unexpected turn of events. He was also wary of his sister's attitude. She had such a temper, he was amazed that she wasn't cursing and shouting. But the presence of her attorney told him that she was serious about buying Hardwick. He knew she had money, so perhaps this was his golden opportunity to unload the place that for years had been a millstone about his neck. “Come in, gentlemen. I think we can do business, if the price is right.”
“You say five hundred pounds is the asking price, James?”
He was prepared for a session of hard bargaining. Five hundred was a steep price for a property like Hardwick, and Bess was an extremely shrewd businesswoman. “Five hundred—worth every penny.”
“What do you think, Cromp?” Bess asked her steward.
“In my opinion the price is too high,” Cromp said flatly.
“Master Entwistle?” Bess asked politely.
The attorney frowned. “One pound an acre in these parts is unheard of. Ten or twelve shillings is the going rate for Derbyshire property. You have to take into account what the income will be, Lady St. Loe.”
“Oh, I believe I can make the property pay, Master Entwistle. My stewards know what they are about. In this case I am prepared to be generous; I have no objection to five hundred pounds.”
“Then it's a deal? Five hundred pounds?” James asked eagerly.
