Page 123 of The Fortunes of Ashmore Castle

‘There you go again, laughing at me!’ Richard cried, running a hand backwards through his hair. ‘Why can’t you take me seriously?’

‘I do. I am. Please, don’t fly off the handle,’ Giles said. He had never seen Richard upset about anything. ‘Tell me what it is you want.’

‘Make me your estate agent. Yes, I know Markham is called your agent, but he can still go on doing what he does. He’s your secretary, factotum, deals with the day-to-day. You can give him a different title – managing agent, perhaps. I will go on doing what I’m doing – being in charge of the overall strategy, the larger scheme of things. Where we overlap, you’ll find we can work together – we’re both reasonable people.’

‘Estate agent,’ Giles mused.

‘It’s a respectable job for a younger son.’

‘And a salary?’

Richard named a sum, and Giles raised his eyebrows, then hastily lowered them as Richard scowled. ‘Very well. I suppose we can afford it.’

‘You’d damn well better, or I’ll take my considerable abilities elsewhere. Good estate agents are hotly sought.’

‘And what else was it? A house?’

‘I’ll still live here when I’m in the country – it would be foolish not to – but I want a place of my own in Town. I don’t want always to have to lodge with Aunt Caroline or go to the club. Just a small house somewhere convenient – Dover Street, Bolton Street, somewhere like that,’ he concluded defiantly.

‘Anything else?’ Giles asked, with a touch of irony.

‘That’ll do for now.’ He gave Giles a look under his eyebrows. ‘You could stay there too, when you came up to Town en garçon instead of at Aunt Caroline’s. If you wanted to. So it wouldn’t be all for me.’

Giles smiled. ‘Stay with you. And I suppose we’d go out on the town like two gay bachelors?’

Richard shrugged. ‘We could strap on the nosebag together, yes. Perhaps take in a show. If you felt like it.’

‘That would be nice,’ Giles said, feeling oddly shy. ‘We haven’t spent much time together, one way or another.’

‘So you agree? I can have what I asked for?’

‘If Vogel says it’s all right—’

‘No, Giles. You tell Vogel what’s all right.’

‘Of course I do. Consider it done, then.’ He held out his hand and the brothers shook. ‘So will you come to Scotland now?’

Richard smiled. It was not quite his old grin, but it lightened the gloom of his face a little. ‘Not a chance. I have to go house-hunting.’

CHAPTER NINETEEN

When the carriages had been waved off, Rose said to Mrs Webster, ‘I want to go down to the village. I need some elastic.’

‘All right. You can take a message for me to Trapper’s. I’d like to get the chimneys swept while they’re away.’

‘Mr Richard and Lady Alice are still here,’ Rose pointed out.

‘We can work around them. I can’t leave it any longer in case the weather changes. Oh, if you’re going to Poining’s, can you get me some plain shirt buttons? I’ll give you one to match.’

Rose went down the back way, round Mop End and Cherry Lane, as she always did now to avoid passing Hundon’s. There was more shade that way, anyway, and it was a hot day. The village basked in shimmering heat. None of the trees was yet turning: it was more like August than September. As she passed the post office Michael Woodrow came out. She would have walked on, but he stepped in front of her. ‘Please stop a moment and talk to me,’ he said.

She stopped, rather than make a scene. ‘How’s the shoulder?’ she asked coldly.

‘Better, thank you. Still a bit stiff, but I can use it all right. How are you?’

‘Me? I’m always well,’ she said, in a conversation-ending tone.

But he didn’t move aside, looking at her earnestly. ‘You look well,’ he said. He chewed his lip, then gestured towards the post office. ‘I was putting in an advertisement for a maid.’