Free Pamela Sherwood by A Song at Twilight Page B

to its challenges.
    “There’s another possibility,” she suggested, a bit diffidently. “Have you considered following your great-uncle’s example and taking a wealthy bride?”
    His face closed off at once, as it had when he’d been talking about his time in Rouen. “Out of the question. I have no desire to turn fortune hunter.”
    Sophie winced at his clipped, curt tone and cursed her own tactlessness. “Naturally, one shouldn’t wed for money alone,” she said placatingly. “And I certainly don’t see you as a fortune hunter. But if you should happen to meet and form an attachment to a lady of means…” She broke off as her thoughts sped to her own fortune, which would come under her control on either her majority or her marriage, and she flushed, feeling suddenly and horribly self-conscious.
    Much to her relief, Mr. Pendarvis had turned his gaze seaward again. “I am relieved that you do not think me mercenary, Miss Tresilian.” His tone was neutral to the point of colorlessness. “But even if I had the inclination to marry, I am in no position to take a wife.”
    Sophie took a composing breath and set about extricating her foot from her mouth. “Of course. I understand why you might feel that way, with—so much unsettled in your life. Pray forgive me, and forget that I ever made such an ill-timed suggestion.”
    The hard line of his mouth softened, much to her relief. “Forgiven and forgotten, Miss Tresilian.” He relaxed on his rock, his expression now thoughtful rather than aloof. “So, things being as they are, I need to find a way to keep the Hall going without bankrupting myself in the process. And since letting the place, breaking the entail, and marrying a fortune are all out of the question, I’ll have to come up with something else.”
    “Is there any unentailed property you could part with?”
    “I think Great-Uncle Simon has already sold off most of that. But my uncle might have some ideas about worthwhile investments. I’ve written to him already, asking for suggestions. I’ll be inviting him, his wife, and their children down to stay in any case. There’s enough room at the Hall to house that entire branch of the family.”
    “The Hall looks like it could accommodate several families,” Sophie observed. “I know you don’t wish to let the place, but it’s a pity you can’t have temporary lodgers, or offer guided tours or fishing weekends. There’s a distant cousin of ours with a castle in Scotland who takes in paying guests during the shooting season—”
    She broke off when she saw Mr. Pendarvis was staring at her, an arrested expression on his face. “I’m sorry. Have I said something wrong?”
    “No. Not at all, Miss Tresilian. In fact,” he continued, his eyes taking on a speculative gleam that turned them a startling, almost electric blue, “you may have given me an idea.”
    “What sort of idea?” she asked, intrigued at once.
    He gave her a slow, contemplative smile. “A brilliant one, or a completely mad one.”
    Sophie fixed him with an exasperated stare. “Would you care to elaborate on that?”
    “Not until I have a chance to weigh the evidence and decide which it is! But mad or brilliant, it’s an idea I didn’t have before, for which I owe you my deepest thanks.”
    “You’re welcome, I suppose,” Sophie said a bit dubiously. “I’m—glad to have helped, though I just wish I knew what you were thanking me for.”
    His smile widened into that engaging, boyish grin. “All in good time, my dear Miss Tresilian! And now we should be starting back,” he added, almost springing up from his rock. “Before your family starts to worry about you.”
    Sophie stifled a sigh. He was right, of course—she had been gone far longer than she’d intended. But she could not regret a moment of this interval, or the strange intimacy she had sensed growing between them. The way he had opened up to her… she felt oddly privileged that he should have chosen