The American Earl by Joan Wolf Read Free Book Online

Papa might have had are long gone. The money that comes in from the home farm as well as the tenants is what we have always lived on.”
    Mr. Shields backed me up. “Lady Julia is correct, my lord. The Marshalls have always been richer in land than in money, but the land has always enabled them to live comfortably up to the standards of their class.”
    Evan’s frustration let itself out in a long release of air. “Is there nothing I can do to raise money?”
    Mr. Shields’ mouth curved in a thin smile.  “There is some good news, my lord.  The late earl never mortgaged Stoverton. I suggest you raise money by taking out a mortgage on the estate.”
    “A mortgage!”  My voice squeaked in horror.  “No Marshall would ever mortgage Stoverton! Not even Papa stooped as low as that.”
    Blue eyes bored into mine. “Then how do you suggest I find the money to pay off your father’s debts, Julia?”
    I stuck up my chin and said boldly, “You have a lot of money, Evan.  Think of all those Caribbean prizes you stole from English merchants.  You could use them to save Stoverton.”
    His eyes hardened.  “I am rich, but when I invest my money, I expect to get a good return on it.  I don’t think that Stoverton will do that for me.”
    “Stoverton will be the best return you could ever get for your money!”  I spoke with all the passion that was in me.  “It’s ancient, historic and beautiful.  It’s filled with the civilization of centuries.  And it has been your family’s home for five long centuries.  Your roots are here, Evan.  Surely that is worth more than an accumulation of money in the bank?”
    “My roots aren’t here, Julia,” said this American usurper.  “My roots are in Salem, Massachusetts.  And when I spend money on a beautiful ship, I expect to earn money from that ship.  And I do.  I earn a great deal of money.  Stoverton isn’t going to earn me any money, it’s only going to cost me.”
    He sounded like a cit, I thought disdainfully.   A middle-class, money-grubbing cit. 
    I said, “Making money for it’s own sake is worth nothing.  Money is only valuable if it gives you a quality of life worth living.”
    “I think my life is worth living, thank you,” he said between his teeth.
    “My lord, Lady Julia,” Mr. Shields bleated. “Can we turn our thoughts back to the subject of our meeting?”
    “Yes.” Evan pushed back his chair as if he was about to rise. “I have opened an account at Barings Bank in London. I will authorize you to draw on it, Mr. Shields, to see that all of the pensions to retired servants are paid. Back to when they were stopped, of course. And hire some more servants. This enormous building needs more attention than it has been getting. Oh, and double the servants’ usual wages. I am not the sort of man who takes advantage of the people who work for me.”
    He stood up and looked down at me. “I believe you were going to show me around the estate, Julia.”
    I looked at him standing there in all his male beauty, a perfect Marshall come to life, and I wished he would go back to America and never return to England again.
     
     

Chapter Seven
     
    I changed clothes for my ride with Evan and told Toby to saddle up Baron with my father’s old saddle.  I threw my sidesaddle on Isabella and had just finished tightening the girth when Evan walked into the stable yard.  He was dressed in the coat he had worn for the meeting and fawn colored riding breeches.  The breeches were cut too loosely, and his boots were too short.  He was a man who traveled on boats and was probably not much of a rider.  I thought it was a good thing that Baron was old and quiet. 
    My own riding clothes weren’t fashionable either, but I wasn’t a millionaire. I wore a warm red wool jacket over the riding skirt that had seen me through many a hunt. My boots were old, but I kept them polished.
    I introduced Toby to Evan and to Toby’s great surprise, Evan shook his