Virginia Heath - Regency Rogues - Wicked Seduction

Bizarrely, she was smiling wistfully at the memory so Aaron held back what he wanted to say. He did not want to sour the mood by telling her that he thought her father was a nasty piece of work. He rather liked her height, her eyes and lips came level with his, and as for her hair? How the devil could hair be unladylike when it was quite the most beautiful head of hair he had ever seen? It was simply further proof to him that the Earl of Redbridge was a tyrant and a fool. Much like his own stubborn sire.

‘Pay it no mind, Connie. As a fellow disappointment to a parent I can assure you that you will never truly be able to please him, no matter how hard you try.’

She lowered her embroidery again and gazed at him intently. ‘How have you disappointed your father? Aside from marrying me, of course.’

Where to start? ‘My father has always enjoyed hunting and I do not. When I was younger he used to force me to accompany him in the hope that it would toughen me up. He used to get very frustrated when I refused to kill anything.’

‘Then I am to assume that you are not responsible for any of those ghastly stuffed heads?’

Aaron pulled a face that made her smile. ‘They are awful, aren’t they? But to answer your question, I am not responsible for even one of them. I could never understand what pleasure there was in chasing a frightened, senseless animal through the woods unless you needed to eat them. That disappointed my father a great deal. He was also dead against me joining the army. I had to wait until I reached the age of majority and then I had to purchase my own commission. My father thought he would stop me by reducing my allowance to such a paltry sum that I could barely afford to go out.’

‘How did you manage to purchase a commission and a uniform? Those things are expensive.’

Now it was his turn to smile at a memory. ‘I took all of the money I received religiously to a gaming hell and gambled until I had won enough to buy it all for myself. My father was livid when I came home in my new regimentals. He threatened to disinherit me.’

‘But he did not?’

‘This house, the estate and the title are all hereditary. The worst he could do was banish me until he died. The law states that it would still all come to me regardless of his wishes. Once I realised that, I knew all of his threats were empty ones. My father likes to control things. He could hardly attempt to control me if he had disowned me. It was all bluster and I called his bluff, the stubborn old fool.’ She watched him take a sip of his port to cover his sudden agitation. ‘He is still being stubborn. I tried to talk to him about the estate again today and refused to leave his study when he met with Mr Thomas.’

Inadvertently, he had given her an opening that she was not prepared to squander. Connie peered at Aaron over the top of her embroidery frame, suddenly nervous. Subtlety had never really been her strong suit and she would need to be very subtle now if she was going to find out what Mr Thomas was truly up to without tipping Aaron off. ‘Did you find out why your estate manager has not yet planted the fields?’ She pretended to focus on her sewing as if she were merely making polite conversation.

Connie could hear the frustration in his voice. ‘That man is a weasel. He came up with some convoluted explanation about a new farming method he had been researching, that doubled the yield of a wheat crop by delaying it. It is apparently all the rage in Holland and the landowners there have seen a dramatic rise in their profits. My father was utterly convinced by it.’

‘But you were not?’

He leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms on his knees, and shook his dark head in exasperation. ‘I just know that he is lying through his teeth. Unfortunately, I still do not know enough about farming to be able to argue back. I never paid attention growing up and now I am trying to cram in a lifetime’s worth of knowledge in just a few weeks. I am beyond confused by it all. I just hope that it does not do more irreparable damage until I can take over.’

Connie jabbed her needle into the frame to cover up her own unease. ‘Surely one bad harvest does not constitute irreparable damage?’

‘One wouldn’t—but this will be the fourth. The estate is not in a good way.’

She was certain, then, that her father had a hand in it and that Mr Thomas was up to much more than merely reporting back gossip. ‘Exactly how bad are things?’

‘They are not bad, Connie,’ he said with resignation, ‘they are dire. Many of the tenants cannot survive another poor harvest and, if things continue like they are, this estate could be bankrupt in two years. Why on earth do you think I was marrying Violet Garfield?’

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