Sir Edward bent forward, his hands on his knees. “Unless…”
Colin lifted his head. There was a way out of this madness? “Unless?” he echoed.
“If you marry well, you can help save Elmthwaite for us and future generations.”
Colin’s jaw tightened at the thought of taking a wife for her money and not because of any real affection. “That’s the answer? I marry someone like Lady Sophia and we’re fine?”
Sir Edward snorted and sat back. “No, it’s more than just marrying well. We need someone like the Earl of Weatherly to fund a project of mine that would give us a new source of revenue. Something the war hasn’t touched. Fortunately for us, you have at least another week to redeem yourself with Lady Sophia and her father.”
“What’s this project of yours?”
A smile graced Sir Edward’s face, softening his expression and revealing his enthusiasm. Colin had forgotten what his father looked like when he smiled. “I want to build a hotel by the lake, make Larksbeck more appealing to wealthy visitors.”
Not a bad idea , Colin mused. “How would these visitors get here?”
“By automobile, of course. I plan to purchase three or four new autos and another chauffeur or two to maintain them. We’ll bring the tourists straight from the railway to the hotel.” His blue eyes flashed with eagerness. “The old stables can be converted to house the new automobiles.”
Colin gave a thoughtful nod; his father had clearly given his plans much consideration. “What sort of hotel are you thinking of building? We can certainly afford some modest structure on our own, can’t we?”
“Well yes,” Sir Edward replied with obvious impatience. “But I want something large and extravagant. A hotel unlike any other in the Lake District. Which means we need serious investors, such as your future father-in-law, to help pay for the land and construction.
Ignoring the implications of such a reference, Colin felt the first stirrings of hope. He wouldn’t have to break his word to Christian after all. “Where would you build this hotel?”
“On Henry Lewis’s land. Next to Elmthwaite, his farm has the best view of the lake and is close enough to the village to be appealing.”
His father’s answer hit him like a fist to the stomach. An image of Nora rose inside his mind—the way her red hair had shone in the light of the lamp last night, the way his hand had fit snugly around her waist.
Sir Edward lifted his shoe to rest it on his knee. “I’ve been meaning to get that land back for years. And now that the old man has passed on…”
“That may not work, Father.” Colin’s hope began to shrivel beneath sudden doubt.
“Why not?”
“The place is already taken.”
Sir Edward glared at him as if Colin were the one stopping his plans. “By young Jack Tuttle?”
“No.” Colin didn’t want to say more. But he couldn’t remain silent, for Nora’s sake. “A great-niece of Lewis’s, from America, has inherited it.”
“How do you know? Is she here?”
Colin worded his reply carefully. “She came to the house last night to collect the key. She’d already met with Henry’s solicitor, who must have contacted her in the States and informed her of Lewis’s death.” He purposely left off mention of his part in helping Nora and going to the cottage.
“Martin said nothing of this.” Sir Edward rubbed a hand over his chin, his brow knit with frustration.
“We didn’t wish to disturb you.”
“As if you hadn’t already,” his father muttered. He sat silent for a long moment, deep in thought, before he lowered his hand to the couch’s armrest. “Is this woman alone?”
Wariness churned inside Colin at the calculating tone. “She is. Why?”
“Excellent.” Sir Edward tapped his fingers against the fabric. “Then she may still wish to sell the place. Running a sheep farm, alone, could prove a difficult task, especially for a woman.”
Colin recalled the determination in Nora’s
Colin lifted his head. There was a way out of this madness? “Unless?” he echoed.
“If you marry well, you can help save Elmthwaite for us and future generations.”
Colin’s jaw tightened at the thought of taking a wife for her money and not because of any real affection. “That’s the answer? I marry someone like Lady Sophia and we’re fine?”
Sir Edward snorted and sat back. “No, it’s more than just marrying well. We need someone like the Earl of Weatherly to fund a project of mine that would give us a new source of revenue. Something the war hasn’t touched. Fortunately for us, you have at least another week to redeem yourself with Lady Sophia and her father.”
“What’s this project of yours?”
A smile graced Sir Edward’s face, softening his expression and revealing his enthusiasm. Colin had forgotten what his father looked like when he smiled. “I want to build a hotel by the lake, make Larksbeck more appealing to wealthy visitors.”
Not a bad idea , Colin mused. “How would these visitors get here?”
“By automobile, of course. I plan to purchase three or four new autos and another chauffeur or two to maintain them. We’ll bring the tourists straight from the railway to the hotel.” His blue eyes flashed with eagerness. “The old stables can be converted to house the new automobiles.”
Colin gave a thoughtful nod; his father had clearly given his plans much consideration. “What sort of hotel are you thinking of building? We can certainly afford some modest structure on our own, can’t we?”
“Well yes,” Sir Edward replied with obvious impatience. “But I want something large and extravagant. A hotel unlike any other in the Lake District. Which means we need serious investors, such as your future father-in-law, to help pay for the land and construction.
Ignoring the implications of such a reference, Colin felt the first stirrings of hope. He wouldn’t have to break his word to Christian after all. “Where would you build this hotel?”
“On Henry Lewis’s land. Next to Elmthwaite, his farm has the best view of the lake and is close enough to the village to be appealing.”
His father’s answer hit him like a fist to the stomach. An image of Nora rose inside his mind—the way her red hair had shone in the light of the lamp last night, the way his hand had fit snugly around her waist.
Sir Edward lifted his shoe to rest it on his knee. “I’ve been meaning to get that land back for years. And now that the old man has passed on…”
“That may not work, Father.” Colin’s hope began to shrivel beneath sudden doubt.
“Why not?”
“The place is already taken.”
Sir Edward glared at him as if Colin were the one stopping his plans. “By young Jack Tuttle?”
“No.” Colin didn’t want to say more. But he couldn’t remain silent, for Nora’s sake. “A great-niece of Lewis’s, from America, has inherited it.”
“How do you know? Is she here?”
Colin worded his reply carefully. “She came to the house last night to collect the key. She’d already met with Henry’s solicitor, who must have contacted her in the States and informed her of Lewis’s death.” He purposely left off mention of his part in helping Nora and going to the cottage.
“Martin said nothing of this.” Sir Edward rubbed a hand over his chin, his brow knit with frustration.
“We didn’t wish to disturb you.”
“As if you hadn’t already,” his father muttered. He sat silent for a long moment, deep in thought, before he lowered his hand to the couch’s armrest. “Is this woman alone?”
Wariness churned inside Colin at the calculating tone. “She is. Why?”
“Excellent.” Sir Edward tapped his fingers against the fabric. “Then she may still wish to sell the place. Running a sheep farm, alone, could prove a difficult task, especially for a woman.”
Colin recalled the determination in Nora’s
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