“That appears to be the intention.”
For the first time, he understood the full ugliness of the scheme.
He had believed the marriage was intended to strengthen two families.
Now it appeared that someone had selected his bride not merely for her fortune, but because her property stood inconveniently across the path of a profitable commercial undertaking.
And he, Julian Vale, Duke of Alderwick, had been expected to provide the authority by which it could be accomplished.
He looked toward the map.
The tiny schoolhouse.
The cottages.
The river.
All of it reduced to a few convenient lines.
“Miss Langley,” he said quietly, “I think we should obtain independent advice before anyone signs another document.”
She nodded.
“And in the meantime?”
Julian rose.
“In the meantime, we shall discover what Mr. Vane has been doing with my money.”
Silas Vane had managed the Alderwick estates for seventeen years.
He was a narrow-faced gentleman of forty-eight, always impeccably dressed, with careful manners and a habit of speaking as though every word had been selected after private consultation with a committee of experts.
Julian had inherited him along with the estate.
His father had trusted Vane.
His brother had employed him.
And Julian, overwhelmed by the inheritance, had allowed him to continue without much interference.
That afternoon, the steward entered the library carrying his familiar black leather account book.
“Your Grace.”
“Vane. Sit down.”
The steward obeyed.
His pale eyes moved toward Clara, who occupied a chair beside the window.
“Miss Langley. What a pleasure.”
Clara smiled.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Vane.”
“I trust Alderwick has welcomed you warmly.”
“Very warmly.”
Julian leaned against the desk.
“I have been examining the northern improvement accounts.”
Vane inclined his head.
“An excellent undertaking, Your Grace. The project promises considerable benefit to the estate.”
“Does it?”
“Indeed. Better transport, increased rents, improved drainage, and new opportunities for commerce.”
“Improved drainage?”
“Certainly.”
Julian gestured toward the map.
“Explain this embankment.”
Vane rose and approached the desk.
His expression did not change when he saw the survey.
“It will permit the company to regulate the water more efficiently.”
“And protect the village?”
“Of course.”
“Even the lower cottages?”
The smallest pause followed.
“Your Grace, those cottages are in poor condition. Their removal has been under consideration for some time.”
“By whom?”
“Myself, in consultation with Sir Edmund Cross.”
“And why was I not informed?”
“You approved the preliminary plan.”
“Did I?”
Vane looked surprised.
“The authorization is among your papers.”
Julian folded his arms.
“I should like to see it.”
“Certainly.”
“Today.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Clara watched Vane's face.
He was an experienced liar, if liar he was.
He displayed none of the common signs of panic.
His voice remained steady. His gestures were economical. He gave every appearance of a man answering routine questions from a superior who had suddenly become more demanding than usual.
Julian continued.
“I have also discovered that certain village rents were increased contrary to the terms of existing leases.”
“A necessary administrative adjustment.”
“Mrs. Beale's lease forbids an increase for another six years.”
Vane hesitated.
“A special circumstance, Your Grace.”
“What special circumstance?”
“The contemplated redevelopment.”
“Under which authority may you disregard a signed lease because you contemplate redevelopment?”
Vane's mouth tightened.
“Your Grace, estate management requires practical judgments. It is sometimes necessary to encourage tenants to seek more suitable accommodation.”