Anne Barbour by Lord Glenravens Return Page B

Jem’s own words.
    “Tell me, ma’am...” His eyes showed nothing beyond a courteous interest. “How long have you been active in the horse breeding business?”
    “For a few years only,” she answered, taking a sip of the brandy he had poured for her. “I became interested in the operation before my husband passed away.”
    “I understand that the former owners of the estate raised sheep. As do most of the gentry hereabouts.”
    “Yes, that’s true—and we still do. That is, as well as we can with the land we possess. Sheep, as you may know, require a great deal of pasturage.”
    Jem topped off her glass, and hesitated a moment before continuing. “I could not help overhearing your remarks about Squire Foster. You rent land from him?”
    “Yes,” Claudia replied with more than a hint of bitterness. “And it’s all land that should belong to us. It did belong to us, until...” She took a deep breath. “My husband sold quite a bit of the estate in the months before he died.”
    “But surely ...” Jem probed delicately. “The loss of a few acres should not mean the curtailment of...”
    “It was not a few acres.” A voice inside Claudia bade her to mind her tongue, but the feeling of companionship that had developed during Goblin’s birthing process lingered, and besides, it felt good to discuss her problems with one who seemed to show a genuine interest. “Ravencroft is now less than a third the size it was before Emanuel began slicing off pieces of it.”
    Jem sat in appalled silence for several moments. My God, he had come home to financial disaster! It was sheep that had kept Ravencroft solvent for centuries. His father had created a thriving business from his horse-breeding efforts, and it had come to rival the profits reaped from sheep, but... My God, he repeated.
    Claudia wondered at the bleak expression on the young man’s face, and she continued hurriedly. “We are by no means poverty-stricken here. I lease the other land for sheep production, and the horse-breeding operation is going very well, considering we have been at it for such a short time. I am plowing all our profits back into the estate.”
    Jem unobtrusively refilled Claudia’s glass. “It seems quite an undertaking for a young woman alone.”
    “Oh, but I’m not alone.” She sipped at her brandy, grateful for the curling warmth it created in her body. “I have Jonah. And, of course. Aunt Augusta.”
    “Ah, yes, the redoubtable Miss Melksham. But why horse breeding? Why a business of any kind, for that matter? Surely, if you are getting by ...”
    “I do not wish,” answered Claudia sharply, “to merely get by, nor am I content to live in greatly reduced circumstances for the rest of our lives.” She took a convulsive gulp of the liquid fire in her glass.
    “Does it mean so much to you to live extravagantly?” Jem’s voice held only mild curiosity as he casually added another dollop of brandy to her tumbler, but in it Claudia read a note of criticism.
    “Not at all.” Good Lord, what was the matter with her, discussing her personal life with a person who was virtually unknown to her. She continued austerely, “It is Ravencroft with which I am concerned. When I arrived here, it was already in considerable disarray, but it—it was obviously once a magnificent residence. Beauty and grace can be seen at every turning—in the staircases and in the design of the rooms. I wish to see it returned to what it was.”
    “But why?” Jem watched her intently. “Even as it is, you could probably sell the old pile for a tidy profit, and you and Aunt Augusta could live a life of ease in London, or Brighton, or even Bath.”
    “Because I love this place.” Claudia drew in a sharp breath. “Because I want to live here. I—I am thinking of adopting children.” She paused startled. She had never thought any such thing, but then again, it did seem like a good idea. Why, she wondered, not for the first time since Emanuel’s