asked and Digby saw that her hands were clenched so tightly in her lap that the knuckles were white.
“It means that your son’s inheritance amounts to little more than a very large debt,” Mr. Poole said, looking down at the papers. “The Manor itself remains. But there is no money to continue to pay the mortgages and the bank will take over the farms and the land. And what you will have to live on, Mrs. Dryden, I cannot imagine.”
“Oh!” Digby’s mother held her face in her hands.
Digby had the same frozen feeling that had come over him when Mr. Evans came to break the news of his father’s death.
The Solicitor was peering at him through his thick lenses.
“I understand you have just gained your degree, from Oxford University,” he said.
“Yes,” Digby nodded.
His head and his body now felt wooden, completely without any feeling.
“Then I should advise you to take up a profession, young man, as soon as may be. You have your charming mother and four pretty sisters looking to you to provide for them. And I don’t doubt that this old Manor will cost a pretty penny to run.”
The Solicitor looked thoughtful.
“There is a Dryden in adjacent Chambers to mine at Lincoln’s Inn. A most renowned and respected Judge. I have often wondered if he might have some connection to your family – ”
Mrs. Dryden raised her head.
“Yes!” she said. “He is my dear husband’s second cousin. We have never met, but James did speak of him sometimes.”
“Then I suggest that you contact him immediately, Mr. Dryden. He may be able to help you gain a foothold in the legal profession.”
“But I never – ”
Digby could not imagine himself as a lawyer. Why he could end up like Mr. Poole, grey and bent, travelling all over the country to bring bad news to people!
“Thank you so much, Mr. Poole, for that very kind suggestion.” Mrs. Dryden smiled at the old man, although her eyes were still wet with tears.
“Not at all, not at all.” Mr. Poole stood up to take his leave.
As soon as the Solicitor had gone, Digby turned to his mother and pulled himself up to his full height.
“I will go off tomorrow and find this Judge, Papa’s cousin,” he told her.
Even though his heart sank as he heard himself say these words, he saw from a new brightness in his mother’s eyes and the quivering but happy smile on her lips that he had made the right decision.
Come what may he must go to London and learn to be a lawyer.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lady Edith Fowles, Lord Ranulph’s mother, was sipping her cup of coffee and sorting through the morning post, which had just been brought to her on a silver tray.
“Well, my dear, it has been such a pleasure to have your company these last two weeks,” she said to her son in an affectionate tone.
Lord Ranulph had just come down to breakfast. He went over to the sideboard and helped himself to some kedgeree and scrambled eggs.
It felt odd, even after two weeks to be here in the elegant and calm ambience of Fowles Place.
He missed the bustle and excitement of being in his rooms in College, hearing his fellow students tramping up and down the stairs and talking at the tops of their voices.
He sat down at the table opposite his mother.
“I am so very glad you have decided not to stay in the country for the summer,” she continued. “You would have missed so many opportunities.”
Lord Ranulph realised with a sinking heart that she was about to start on her favourite topic of conversation.
He looked down at his kedgeree, which he suddenly found rather unappetising.
As the only son of Lord and Lady Fowles, it was Lord Ranulph’s duty to marry as soon as possible and to have a son to ensure that the family line would continue and for the legacy of the Fowles estates to remain secure.
He did not feel at all ready to commit himself to matrimony, let alone setting up house and starting a family.
“Oh, look!”
Lady Fowles opened one of the envelopes on the tray and pulled
“It means that your son’s inheritance amounts to little more than a very large debt,” Mr. Poole said, looking down at the papers. “The Manor itself remains. But there is no money to continue to pay the mortgages and the bank will take over the farms and the land. And what you will have to live on, Mrs. Dryden, I cannot imagine.”
“Oh!” Digby’s mother held her face in her hands.
Digby had the same frozen feeling that had come over him when Mr. Evans came to break the news of his father’s death.
The Solicitor was peering at him through his thick lenses.
“I understand you have just gained your degree, from Oxford University,” he said.
“Yes,” Digby nodded.
His head and his body now felt wooden, completely without any feeling.
“Then I should advise you to take up a profession, young man, as soon as may be. You have your charming mother and four pretty sisters looking to you to provide for them. And I don’t doubt that this old Manor will cost a pretty penny to run.”
The Solicitor looked thoughtful.
“There is a Dryden in adjacent Chambers to mine at Lincoln’s Inn. A most renowned and respected Judge. I have often wondered if he might have some connection to your family – ”
Mrs. Dryden raised her head.
“Yes!” she said. “He is my dear husband’s second cousin. We have never met, but James did speak of him sometimes.”
“Then I suggest that you contact him immediately, Mr. Dryden. He may be able to help you gain a foothold in the legal profession.”
“But I never – ”
Digby could not imagine himself as a lawyer. Why he could end up like Mr. Poole, grey and bent, travelling all over the country to bring bad news to people!
“Thank you so much, Mr. Poole, for that very kind suggestion.” Mrs. Dryden smiled at the old man, although her eyes were still wet with tears.
“Not at all, not at all.” Mr. Poole stood up to take his leave.
As soon as the Solicitor had gone, Digby turned to his mother and pulled himself up to his full height.
“I will go off tomorrow and find this Judge, Papa’s cousin,” he told her.
Even though his heart sank as he heard himself say these words, he saw from a new brightness in his mother’s eyes and the quivering but happy smile on her lips that he had made the right decision.
Come what may he must go to London and learn to be a lawyer.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lady Edith Fowles, Lord Ranulph’s mother, was sipping her cup of coffee and sorting through the morning post, which had just been brought to her on a silver tray.
“Well, my dear, it has been such a pleasure to have your company these last two weeks,” she said to her son in an affectionate tone.
Lord Ranulph had just come down to breakfast. He went over to the sideboard and helped himself to some kedgeree and scrambled eggs.
It felt odd, even after two weeks to be here in the elegant and calm ambience of Fowles Place.
He missed the bustle and excitement of being in his rooms in College, hearing his fellow students tramping up and down the stairs and talking at the tops of their voices.
He sat down at the table opposite his mother.
“I am so very glad you have decided not to stay in the country for the summer,” she continued. “You would have missed so many opportunities.”
Lord Ranulph realised with a sinking heart that she was about to start on her favourite topic of conversation.
He looked down at his kedgeree, which he suddenly found rather unappetising.
As the only son of Lord and Lady Fowles, it was Lord Ranulph’s duty to marry as soon as possible and to have a son to ensure that the family line would continue and for the legacy of the Fowles estates to remain secure.
He did not feel at all ready to commit himself to matrimony, let alone setting up house and starting a family.
“Oh, look!”
Lady Fowles opened one of the envelopes on the tray and pulled
Similar Books
