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Jeffers looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “There was no marquess over the past few years.”
John ignored the twinge of guilt that hit him at those words. It wasn’t an accusation, but it felt like one. “Your point being?”
Jeffers removed his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose before replacing them. “I wanted to make the repairs, and Miss Weston encouraged me to proceed. Your solicitor, however, cautioned me against any expenses that might be seen by some as being excessive.”
John frowned at what he considered the unnecessary delay. “What exactly did Markham think you had in mind?”
“Nothing beyond patching roofs and walls. The standard repairs that need to be seen to over time. One or two of the cottages might need to be replaced altogether.”
“And you allowed the tenants to live under those conditions?” John winced inwardly when he realized he’d spoken more sharply than he’d intended. But given that his family had lived in near poverty before his sister had wed the Marquess of Overlea and he’d enlisted, he couldn’t help but feel outraged at the thought of his tenants suffering from neglect.
“We didn’t know who would inherit. It’s no secret that many members of society don’t care about the living conditions of their tenants as long as their own income isn’t affected. We had no way of knowing whether the next marquess would feel the same way.”
“Well, I don’t. Please see to it that the repairs are conducted right away. And that includes building new cottages where necessary.”
Jeffers narrowed his eyes, his expression impassive. “That might cost more than you imagine.”
John waved a hand over the account books. “I’m sure it won’t bankrupt me, and I won’t have my tenants neglected.”
“I’ll see to it right away, my lord.”
Jeffers did something completely unexpected then. He smiled. It was the first genuine emotion the man had exhibited, and John couldn’t help but feel that he’d passed some sort of test.
Chapter 13
Amelia knew she was risking discoveryby continuing to do her writing in the library. It was her favorite room in the house, however, and she could spread out the pages of her manuscript on the desk she’d set up in one corner of the room, next to a large window that looked out on the back gardens. Mrs. Brambles lay on a cushion next to the window, her customary location whenever Amelia was writing.
Conscious of the need to tread with care, she limited herself to a small, neat stack of pages. The notes she’d made about the next few scenes in the book were facedown beside her, but she didn’t need to glance at them that afternoon. The words flowed from her fingers in an unending stream, the scene fully formed in her head.
The sound of the door being opened had her raising her head to find Lowenbrock had entered the room. Fortunately, she’d prepared for this eventuality. She’d written a page of instructions for Mrs. Hastings about household matters they needed to discuss.
She smiled her welcome as she took that list and placed it on top of the pages of her manuscript. Lowenbrock would think she was making notes on household matters if he glanced at it.
He hovered just inside the doorway. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back later if you’re busy.”
“Not at all. I was just finishing.”
“Do you mind if I join you then? I promise to be quiet as you work.”
His expression was so earnest, and it elicited a strange need in her to comfort him. No doubt he was feeling overwhelmed after his meeting with Jeffers. The man did have the effect of wearing one out with his insistence on covering every detail.
“Of course not,” she said, setting the pages aside.
As though to add her agreement, Mrs. Brambles stretched and made her way over to Lowenbrock, where she rubbed against the man’s legs before quitting the room. No doubt in search of another quiet place where her nap wouldn’t be interrupted.
“I think she likes you more than she does me.”
One corner of Lowenbrock’s mouth lifted as he settled into a comfortable chair. “If that was the case, she wouldn’t be sleeping next to you.”
Amelia rose from her chair at the desk and moved to join him. When he started to stand, she lifted a hand to stop him. He stood anyway.
“That will grow tiresome if you insist on standing whenever I do.”
“Perhaps I won’t feel the need after some time has passed. But for now…” He shrugged.
And of course this man, who thought nothing of rescuing barmaids he didn’t know, would never disrespect a gently bred woman. She settled into a chair opposite him, and he relaxed back into his seat.
“It has only been a few hours since I left your study, and you appear exhausted.”
