Bought for Revenge Read Online Free Page B

James Keighley. A widower, he had been informed. They had been introduced earlier and Lucas had summed up Keighley as a country gentleman of comfortable means, some years older than himself. Was there an understanding between the man and Miss Havenham? Keighley had brought the Oakenroyd party in his own carriage, but Lucas had noticed no special attention between the pair since then. If he had been enamoured of the lady, or if he had been a hot-headed young suitor then he might have been a nuisance, but Lucas did not think Keighley’s interest in Miss Havenham was likely to affect his own plans.
    When the ladies withdrew, their host gave a signal to the butler.
    ‘Now we can be comfortable.’ He leaned forwards to address Lucas. ‘I know you were a military man, Monserrat, but I hope you won’t think us unpatriotic to bring French brandy to the table now that the emperor has finally been defeated.’
    ‘Not at all,’ returned Lucas, pushing his glass out to be filled. ‘I am pleased to see you are supporting the new regime.’
    ‘We are, sir,’ declared Mr Scanlon, ‘and since Sir John is magistrate for these parts you can be sure that the duty has been paid on the brandy, too!’
    There was general laughter at this.
    ‘So you were in the army, Mr Monserrat,’ remarked Mr Keighley. ‘What is it brings you to Stanton, sir?’
    ‘Have you not heard?’ said Scanlon. ‘He has purchased Morwood Manor and means to restore it. Ain’t that right, sir?’
    ‘It is,’ averred Lucas.
    ‘Well, now you are here,’ said Rishworth, ‘perhaps you would be interested in investing locally.’
    ‘That depends upon the investment.’
    Sir John Rishworth sat back in his chair, preparing to expound upon what was clearly a favourite theme.
    ‘Our new toll road, for example. A number of us subscribed to the venture two years ago, to build a new road running around Dyke’s Ridge. The old road, you see, dips down very steeply past Oldroyd Farm to cross the ford, but the valley bottom is almost a bog. In winter the road is well nigh impassable. We hope the new road will improve trade to the town.’
    ‘Unfortunately it has not done so yet,’ observed Mr Keighley.
    ‘No,’ agreed Sir John. ‘Last year’s bad harvest means trade in Stanton has been very poor and we have not yet recovered our costs.’
    Samuel Havenham sighed. ‘I had hoped we would have turned a profit by now.’
    ‘You could always sell your share in the venture,’ suggested Lucas.
    Havenham shook his head. ‘No, no, we shall come about. Besides, the subscription was not so much an investment for me as for my daughter. A little something for her when I am gone.’
    His neighbours cried out at that and declared they hoped Mr Havenham would be with them for many years to come.
    ‘If you are interested, Monserrat, there are several of us who might wish to sell on our shares to you,’ called a bewhiskered gentleman from the far end of the table.
    ‘Aye,’ cried Scanlon. ‘You may have mine with pleasure. I haven’t seen any improvement to business in Stanton or recovered my costs yet.’
    Sir John waved one hand in a placating gesture. ‘Be calm, gentlemen. Once the mail coach begins to use the new road next summer our fortunes will improve, trust me.’
    ‘Perhaps Mr Monserrat has more patience than I,’ retorted Scanlon. ‘What do you say, Monserrat, would you like to take my shares off me?’
    ‘I will consider it.’
    ‘I think he is better keeping his funds to restore Burnt Acres,’ laughed the bewhiskered gentleman.
    Lucas raised one black brow in enquiry. ‘Burnt Acres?’
    ‘Morwood Manor. Burnt Acres is what we’ve called that land for more years than I care to remember.’
    ‘Oh?’ Lucas kept his face impassive. ‘Why is that?’
    ‘Goes back to when the house burned down five-and-twenty years ago,’ explained Sir John. ‘Owner and his wife lost their lives in the fire.’
    ‘Aye, sad business.’ Mr Scanlon shook his head.