He glanced at Caitlin and took in her fond smile.
“That,” she said, “is due, first, to Minnie, and to Timms’s steady hand after that. Between them, they fostered, nurtured, and grew something that is unique and productive.”
He gazed at the Hall’s gothic façade. “The estate is a very far cry from the usual disposition of a gentleman’s acres. Not being blind, I can see the benefits, especially given the uncertainty that bedevils the profits from agricultural crops and even sheep and cattle.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw the sidelong glance she threw him, guessed the thought behind it, and inwardly nodded. “But that’s the point, isn’t it? Creating such a tapestry of different businesses naturally results in collective security. One type of goods might suddenly be in glut and its price drops, but another business’s product will be in high demand, and the prices there will offset the other.”
A sense of having finally fully grasped the implications of the composition of the Bellamy Hall estate flooded him.
“Timms told me that Minnie’s husband, Sir Humphrey, who was, apparently, a great and very successful investor—”
“He was.”
“Well, he taught Minnie that diversifying one’s investments into different industries was the cornerstone of success. After Sir Humphrey died and the reins of the estate passed to Minnie, she decided that the same logic should apply to estate management, too, and deliberately sought out different sorts of businesses that could thrive on the estate, and Timms continued in her footsteps.”
“To my ultimate benefit, and that of all those on the estate.”
“Exactly. Sir Humphrey’s farsightedness and Minnie’s determination and Timms’s devotion to their ideals have paid off.”
As they neared the house, he felt as if he’d finally uncovered the truth of the legacy Minnie and Timms had left him. “Now, I understand why there hasn’t been a steward in decades.” No normal steward would know how to handle this.
For all his life, he, his family, and all those in the ton who knew Minnie had viewed her “hangers-on,” as they’d termed them, as a random collection of esoteric folk with odd or unusual interests. Having now met them, he could see that far from being without purpose, Minnie’s selection of those whose causes she’d espoused had been deliberate and based on sound judgment and excellent reasoning.
She’s protected the estate from any type of future downturn.
For no matter what happened in the years to come, at least some of the businesses would be profitable, and most likely, those that remained in the black would do so by a large enough margin to tide the rest over until conditions improved.
And that wasn’t taking into account the considerable funds left by Sir Humphrey, Minnie, and subsequently, Timms to ensure the smooth running of the estate. It seemed likely those were simply there, accruing interest year after year—a steadily increasing cushion.
“Good Lord.” He shook his head in something akin to disbelief. “This is so much more than I’d envisaged.”
Caitlin glanced at his face, took in his rather stunned expression, then looked ahead. “And you haven’t yet seen the farms.”
Chapter 5
With Caitlin, Gregory visited the farms the very next day. What he saw added to his understanding of the intertwining of the estate businesses and left him marveling anew at how farsighted Minnie and Timms had been. The two old ladies had grasped what few other landowners had, and the Hall’s enterprises meshed together in myriad mutually supporting ways. For instance, the stubbled pastures and any low-quality grain from the cropping farms, Roxton and Barton, were made available to Home Farm and Nene Farm, which ran the estate’s large flock of sheep and the local cattle stud respectively, enabling the livestock farms to easily winter their herds. Hides and sheepskins from the livestock farms supplied the leatherworks, and basket ware provided by the Osiery was used on all four farms as well as in most other estate businesses.
Alice and Millie provided remedies for any and all illnesses to the entire estate, human and animal, while the leatherworks provided work boots and heavy gloves to any estate worker who needed them. The forge built and maintained iron and steel equipment, as well as kept every horse properly shod, while the carriage works kept all conveyances in good working order. Every enterprise gave whatever any other enterprise needed free of charge or expectation.
The way the estate community worked together and supported each other was nothing short of remarkable.
On Friday, the day after he’d visited the farms, when, after breakfast, Gregory settled behind the library desk, he was still struggling to absorb the intricacies of Minnie and Timms’s creation. Every time he turned around, he found some new cross-connection that inevitably benefited both businesses involved.
Apparently, Caitlin habitually spent her Fridays ensconced in the study, dealing with orders and the like, which left him with time to further his understanding.
He drew the account ledgers covering the past year to sit squarely before him. It had been only three days since Caitlin had guided him through the entries, but now that he’d seen every business and spoken with the owners—and had gained a far better appreciation of what was going on—he needed to look over the figures again. Illuminated by his new insights, they would tell a much more meaningful story.
As he opened the first ledger, the understanding little smile that had curved Caitlin’s lips as she’d handed him the books a few minutes ago rose in his mind. He dwelled on those tempting lips, and his mind, once again, diverted to the fascinating subject of her.
Given she played such a pivotal, central role on the estate, it behooved him to learn more of her. That she was committed to keeping the entire cohort of estate enterprises running optimally, in harness as it were, and strove to achieve that in the easiest, smoothest, least-disruptive fashion was beyond question. She had a sound understanding of the people involved and was committed to their well-being, too. Such unstinting devotion was commendable, especially as, having caught more hints of her soft burr over recent days, he’d adjusted his view of just how far north she hailed from.
He didn’t think she’d come from anywhere south of Hadrian’s Wall.
In fact, on several occasions, that soft, slight accent had sparked memories of the area around the home of his cousins, Lucilla and Marcus. He was increasingly certain Caitlin Fergusson had lived much of her life somewhere near the Vale of Casphairn.
Yet her origins were but a minor aspect of the conundrum she posed. She was, he estimated, somewhere in her early to mid-twenties. Despite her confidence and assurance, with his well-honed instincts regarding the opposite sex, he simply couldn’t see her as any older. And that was the crux of the conundrum. How could a young lady—for she was assuredly that—of only twenty-something summers fill the role of chatelaine in such a commanding fashion?
With such understated aplomb?
