His steward entered.
“Take a seat, Crosby. We have quite a few matters to discuss.”
“Yes, milord.” As Crosby covered concerns pertaining to the estate, Brendan listened and made the odd comment, welcoming the distraction. His recent interest in how the estate was run, and how his tenants fared, had come as a surprise even to himself. It heartened him because it seemed the life he had feared he would never enjoy was not entirely beyond him. Since Laura had come, he’d traveled down a different path. Not what he wished for, but one he might find rewarding all the same. He glanced up at his father’s portrait. He had died at thirty-three years of age. If Brendan had only those few years until he reached the same age left, he would make the most of them.
Chapter Thirteen
Laura rose fromher bed, the sky beyond the window a vast, blue landscape dotted with white clouds. The early morning sunlight reflected off the glass into her chamber.
When donning her dressing gown, Penny came in with a tray and set Laura’s chocolate, a buttered roll, and a pot of jam on the table. While the maid scurried about preparing the bath, Laura sipped the hot beverage. Would she see Debnam this morning? Alone? She decided to broach the subject of his parents. He needed to know that she knew about them. And that she would always think of him and hope he was happy.
After Laura saw to Robert’s needs, she left the house for a brisk walk and her last glimpses of beautiful Beechley. She chose a different direction to avoid Lord Gaylord. Should he lurk about. She strolled along the avenue beneath aged, gnarled oak trees, their branches a leafy arch overhead. When she walked out into the warm sun, the ornate front gates and gate house were ahead of her, the gates standing open. An old man sat on the ground with his back against one of the tall, stone pillars, his head bowed.
Laura approached him. “Are you all right, sir?”
Unfolding his long legs, he climbed to his feet and removed his shabby beaver hat. The man’s curly, brown hair was gray at the temples. His craggy face broke into a smile. “Now, why would a young miss concern herself about me?”
“I’m happy to assist you, if I can.”
His old-fashioned, charming bow made her smile. “Wagstaff, miss. I came to see the steward seeking employment. But I’m told there is nothing to suit the likes of me.”
“Miss Laura Peyton.” She offered her hand, and he hesitated before he shook it firmly. He reminded her of their butler, who had passed away several years ago, never to be replaced. Wagstaff wasn’t as old as she’d first thought. Although shabbily dressed, he looked neat and clean, his hair and whiskers trimmed. “What sort of work, sir?”
“Sadly, my standards have been lowered by necessity.”
“What did you do before?”
“I was butler to Lord Gaylord. He put me off a few years ago. I found temporary work in one of the big houses in the district while they were shorthanded, but now…” He spread his arms and shrugged. “I am here, as you see, seeking a new position.”
Gaylord! That ghastly man.She wondered if Mr. Wagstaff had a pension. It could not have been generous. “A butler? That is an important position within a household.”
He straightened and pushed out his narrow chest. “Indeed, it is.”
“What occurred with Lord Gaylord? Do you mind telling me?”
“No, but ah, it’s a long story. Lord Gaylord took a set against me and refused to give me a reference. Something I said and shouldn’t have. But that’s me, cannot keep my mouth shut to save my life. Or to keep my position.” He frowned. “But when something needs to be said, one must speak. Do you not think so?”
Laura nodded, wondering what it had been about. He seemed reluctant to tell her. “I doubt he’s a nice man.”
“That he is not.”
“What will you do now, Mr. Wagstaff?”
“I’ll walk back to the village, although it will do me little good. There’s no work for me there.” He smiled. “You are a kind lady, Miss Peyton. But you mustn’t worry yourself about an old fellow like me.”
While they talked, Laura walked part of the way along the road with him. It was at least a ten-mile walk to the village. An idea formed. She stopped and placed a hand on his arm, upset by how thin he was. “My brother and I are guests of the earl’s, Mr. Wagstaff. Lord Netterfield and I return home to Longworth, my brother’s estate in Surrey, tomorrow. We don’t have a butler. Nor, I must admit, do we have need of one. But I’m sure there’s other work you could do there. That’s if Lord Netterfield agrees with the arrangement,” she added hastily. She would have to be careful how she put this to Robert for him to see the sense of it. “Could you remain here while I ask him?”
His twinkling, blue eyes brightened. “Happy to. I sincerely thank you, Miss Peyton.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she said with a smile. “My brother might not agree.” She turned and retraced her steps, hurrying back to the porch and the front door. Before she reached it, Debnam rode around the corner from the direction of the stables. He reined in Bruno and leaned down to her. “You look more rested today. You’ve been for a walk?”
“I met an old gentleman at the front gates. Mr. Wagstaff was once Lord Gaylord’s butler.”
Debnam raised his eyebrows. “Wagstaff? I remember him many years ago. A kindly fellow, as I recall.”
“I appreciate your endorsement.”
He raised his dark eyebrows. “You wish to engage him? He must be at least sixty.”