Page 108 of A Single Obsession

For the next five days, Beau threw himself into learning about his estate. Mrs Allett gave him a tour of the house, and he could tell from the way she spoke how much she loved the place. It had been built by his father to impress his guests, with a magnificent, pillared entrance and ornate stucco panels on the walls, designed by the renowned architect Robert Adam himself.

Although he would not have chosen such an ostentatious design, Beau thought he could get used to it, and as the stables were built on the same grand scale as the house, he became reconciled to living at the Park permanently. He just hoped Eliza would be there to share it with him.

Mr Harris proved a patient teacher and was as devoted to the Beaumont family’s interests as his housekeeper. He had taken over as steward from his father a few years earlier and knew the land well, having lived on the estate all his life and if, at times, he bombarded his pupil with too much information, the man never complained about being asked to say something again.

Whenever Beau felt overwhelmed and tempted to give up, he reminded himself he was doing it for Eliza, and kept going.

As he learned more about his estate and what it meant to be a good landlord, she was never far from his mind. When Harris introduced his tenants, Beau remembered the easy way she had spoken to the West Meon villagers and adopted a similar tone.

His mother would not have approved, but he felt sure Eliza would, and he was rewarded with a friendly deference that augured well for the future.

On the sixth day, Mr Harris had a meeting that would take the entire morning, leaving Beau at liberty to amuse himself. To his surprise, he felt at a loss. To do anything for pleasure seemed a waste of time. It would not move him toward his purpose, and he was growing impatient.

He wanted to return to London and visit Eliza. Without her, it was all rather pointless.

Beau drifted through the rooms of his house, trying not to think about the woman he loved, and failing. Anthony would be concerned to see him choosing to be inside instead of out riding.

The trouble was that, though Romeo was safely in his stables, and all set to be a champion, the old joy had gone. Looking at his colt caused too much pain. The horse was a constant reminder of what Eliza had risked for him, and of the love he had thrown away through his own stupidity.

A wave of despair passed over him. Had she given up on him? What if he was too slow to prove himself and she gave her heart to another—someone far worthier?

He found himself in the long gallery, where portraits of his ancestors hung in a narrow room that stretched the full width of the house. He stopped in front of the same picture that always drew his gaze—that of his parents.

It was hard to reconcile the bitter feelings he had for his father with the warmth his old housekeeper exhibited toward the man Beau had never known.

“Why did you do it?” he said, looking up at his father’s face, as if by speaking the words aloud he would receive an answer. “Why did you serve me such a poor turn, making me wait for my inheritance? Did you mean to make my life a misery, subjecting me to my mother’s will for so long? Why did you do it? Didn’t you love me either?”

“He loved you.”

Beau turned to see Mrs Allett standing behind him at a respectful distance, staring up at the same portrait. He had been so absorbed, he had not heard her enter the gallery and felt the heat rush to his cheeks that she had found him ranting at a picture.

“He loved you,” the housekeeper repeated, undisturbed by his odd behaviour. “Your father was delighted to have a son. Much to your mother’s annoyance, he would steal you away from the nursery and take you to visit his horses. The stables were full of magnificent animals back then, and he loved them more than anything—until you came along.

“He would sit with me in the kitchen and beg me to admire his fine lad. ‘He has horses in his blood, Allie. You should see how the little man reaches out his hands to stroke their manes.’ Aye. He loved you sure enough. You meant the world to him.”

“Then why, Mrs Allett? Why did he draw up a will that forced me to depend on my mother until I was twenty-five, or be thrust into marriage before I was ready?”

“If I can be so bold, your lordship, I suspect he wanted to save you from making the same mistake he made. Your father kept putting off taking a wife, and when he married, he chose a beautiful woman of good birth who was young enough to be his daughter. It was a brilliant match for her—but it was not happy. Her ladyship resented living a secluded life in the country and came to hate what her husband loved—his horses. She projected her unhappiness onto him, causing him to withdraw from her even more. I believe he thought marrying young was your best chance for happiness.”

Beau shook his head in wonder. His father had drawn up his will that way for his benefit? That had never occurred to him before.

“I know things haven’t worked out for you like his lordship intended, but find it in your heart to forgive him. Your father would have been grieved you did not grow up here, where you belong.”

“What happened to his horses?” Beau asked, though he knew the answer already.

“Your mother sold them. His lordship was out hunting when he died. He took a fall while jumping a hedge and she blamed the horse for his death. That is what she told everyone. It was her excuse for emptying his stables, but it wasn’t true. The doctor said your father’s heart gave out.”

Beau let out a deep sigh. “So it wasn’t the horse’s fault, or his mistake?”

“No. But though she got rid of his lordship’s animals, it appears she failed to wean her son from his influence, even after his death. From all I’ve observed, I suspect you love horses as much as he did.”

“You’re right, Mrs Allett. I believe horses are in my blood, and my mother has always hated me for it. At least now I understand why.”

His housekeeper went about her work, leaving him staring up at the face so like his own, with less animosity than before. He sensed a new connection with his father, whom Mrs Allett said had loved him. A man who hadn’t died in a hunting accident, as his mother had told him, but had been doing what he loved when his time had come.

“I forgive you, Father. I realise you never meant this to happen. You didn’t intend me to be sent away from my home or to be under my mother’s power. You wanted me to break free, but I didn’t understand. One day, I’ll restore your stables to their former glory and Langcroft Park will be full of horses again. And God willing, my wife will love them as much as we do.”

His spirit felt lighter than it had for a long time. Perhaps he would go for a ride after all.