Old Sins Long Shadows by B.D. Hawkey Read Free Book Online Page B

over a stile. He was polite and gallant and left her to walk the last part alone so as not to cause gossip that may harm her reputation. Janey felt safe with him, protected and charmed. It felt only natural when their paths crossed in the hall later in the day that he should pick a flower from a vase on the table, kiss its petals and hand it to her as a gift.
    Janey wrote his name , the ink once again sliding across the paper, sweeping elaborately the letters of his name. The action of writing his name brought him closer to her, forming an intimacy that was in fact growing as prolific as poison ivy.
     
    James watched the amber coloured brandy move around the edges of his glass as he gently swirled the contents. He found a perverse pleasure in testing how close he could make the spirit touch the edge without it sloshing over. The pleasure was made the greater knowing his father would hate to see good brandy go to waste should it spill. This was borne out when his father finally snapped.
    ‘ Stop doing that James, you know it irritates me.’
    James breathed in the aroma of his glass, filling his nostrils with vanilla that transformed to a mixture of wood, fruit and spices . He took a mouthful and let it linger on his tongue before swallowing. If only all irritants could be blocked out with a glass of brandy, he mused. But they couldn’t and wouldn’t. His father was the latest irritant and he had heard this particular lecture before.
    ‘ Come, Father, I thought we were going to enjoy an after dinner brandy together. You should have warned me you would spend the entire time pacing up and down and preaching a sermon.’
    ‘ A sermon that has been long overdue,’ Lord Brockenshaw shot back. ‘Today William Menhennit called on me. He told me you owed him a large sum of money from a gambling debt. It was humiliating. Of course I paid him and apologised on your behalf.’ He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, ‘How many more people are going to knock on my door wanting payment for some misdemeanour you are responsible for?’
    ‘ He is no better. He’s a gambler too.’
    ‘ He’s a magistrate! He also has the money to throw away if he wants. You, on the other hand, do not. I do not. Your mother and I are to blame. We spoilt you.’  He placed his walking stick against the desk and eased himself down into a chair. ‘We chose not to have more children after her sight deteriorated but it meant you were our only child and was duly spoilt. I cannot keep paying your debts, James. It has got to stop.’
    James poured himself another glass, ‘I really think, Father, you are taking this all too seriously. It is not unusual for a gentleman to owe money to someone, just take from one pot to pay the other.’
    ‘ You mean I take from my pot to pay for yours.’
    James raised his glass in mock salute, ‘Yes, after all, what’s yours is mine.’
    Lord Brockenshaw looked uncomfortable, ‘Not yet it isn’t. Anyway, what’s mine may not be as much as what you think it is.’
    For the first time his father had James’s full attention, ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘ I mean, James, that it takes money to run an estate such as this. When I inherited Bosvenna Manor it had thirty indoor staff, a thousand acres made up of numerous farms and moorland, plus money in the bank. Over the years the staff have dwindled, I’ve had to sell off a number of farms and,’ he looked pointedly at James, ‘I have a son who likes to gamble and waste money. You take it for granted that I pay you a large allowance, fund your lavish lifestyle and pay your debts.’
    ‘ Well, pardon me for breathing,’ mocked James.
    His father thumped the desk with his fist , ‘Damn you!  Do you take life seriously at all?’
    ‘No, as you do it for me,’ said James getting up to look out the window. ‘Does Mother know that you have sold so much land?’
    ‘ Our financial situation is not helped by your gambling debts and lavish spending habit,’ said his