Page 16 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

‘She’d be more affected if we’re forced into bankruptcy,’ Giles said.

‘Very well, my lord. But I doubt the jewellery could do more than tide us over.’

‘That’s something, at any rate. What about selling some of the land?’

‘Mortgaged.’

Giles stared at nothing for a moment, gathering himself. ‘Retrenchment, then,’ he said. His father’s London life, he determined grimly, should be dismantled. ‘Cancel all memberships and subscriptions. Get rid of the rented properties. Sell the leases – I suppose they’ll bring in something?’

‘Yes, my lord. But do you wish me to look into—’

‘I wish you to cut out London entirely,’ Giles interrupted angrily. ‘Enough has been wasted there. I won’t waste any more. It’s Ashmore that matters. Whatever he was spending in Town, it stops at once. If anyone from the Castle wants to go to London they can stay with my aunt or my grandmother.’

‘Very well, my lord.’

‘And retrenchment at home. I’m sure there must be a lot of waste.’

‘I would advise against wholesale reductions – it would spread unwelcome gossip, and as I said before, confidence is everything. Luckily, if I might put it like that, your bereavement means you will not be entertaining for some months, which allows you to exercise a certain austerity without attracting notice.

‘Indeed,’ said Giles, drily.

‘And the stables are a large expense. You might usefully cut down there.’

Moresby enumerated: his late lordship kept six hunters, with two youngsters being brought on. Aside from them there were her ladyship’s and the young ladies’ horses, six carriage horses, two road horses, four grooms’ horses, and two ponies – in all, twenty-five head eating their heads off. To care for them there were seven grooms and four boys, in addition to Giddins, Archer and Josh Brandom, and two coachmen.

‘I can sell the hunters,’ Giles said. ‘Even if I were to be hunting this season – which obviously I’m not – they wouldn’t suit me.’

‘Then you should sell them now, my lord, with some of the season still to go. You’d get a better price.’

‘I’ll see it done. What else?’ Moresby was shuffling papers, evidence of embarrassment, or a reluctance to go on. ‘Out with it, man. I think I’m past shocking now.’

Moresby looked up. ‘Nothing shocking, I assure you, my lord. Perhaps – delicate.’

‘Oh, Lord, what now?’

‘Your mother’s jointure,’ Moresby said. ‘If it is asked for, it must be paid, and the only way I can see for such a sum to be procured is through a loan. Reluctant as I am to suggest taking on more interest payments—’

‘If it is asked for?’ Giles queried.

‘The jointure, as you know, is for the maintenance and comfort of the relict. But if her ladyship remained at the Castle with all her present comforts, she would not immediately need it. The issue might be passed over for a few valuable months, or even years.’

Giles was faintly amused, though in a sour way. ‘You mean, if I send her to the Dower House, I’ll have to pay up, but if I let her stay here, she might forget about it?’

Moresby winced at the plain speaking. ‘In essence—’

‘Does she know?’ Giles interrupted.

‘Know, my lord?’

‘How things are.’

‘I really cannot say, my lord. It is entirely up to you how much you reveal to her, but if she doesn’t know … The fewer people who know, the better.’

But if his mother wanted her jointure, he would have to borrow, and put the estate deeper into debt. And what about his sisters? There had never been any money set aside for their dowries – presumably his father had thought he would cross that bridge when he came to it – but they were Giles’s responsibility now. He would have to do something.

‘I feel like a rabbit in a snare,’ he said. ‘It’s a miserable mess, and there seems no way out but years of austerity or more reckless borrowing – or both.’

Moresby paused for a moment before saying hesitantly, ‘There is one other way out, my lord. It may not be a solution that appeals to you, but it has a long – and, may I say, respectable – precedent.’