Chapter 12

Daniel

Christmas Eve, 1860

So, all this belonged to him now. He stood in the ornamental gardens of Stanton Hall and let his gaze roam over the grand house and lands that were now his own. There had been Stantons on this land for over three hundred years. Now, the legacy had passed on to him. He would be keeper of this place for however many years God granted him, after which it would pass on to the next generation.

Pride filled his breast, together with a heavy sense of expectation. His responsibility it was now to maintain this grand home, to ensure the sound management of the land and proper care of all who lived on it, from servant to tenant. He remembered how he had once thought this system of landlord and tenants as feudal. He still thought it so, but he was also reminded of a salient fact: feudalism had been a two-way contract between a liege lord and his vassals.

While it was true a vassal was granted land from his lord in return for loyalty and service—just as his tenants were granted land in return for paying rent—the lord had a duty in return to protect all those who pledged allegiance to him. And by the same token, Daniel now had a great duty to protect the welfare of those who worked on his estate. His mama, God bless her, had a quote from classical philosophers for all aspects of life. And he was sure in this instance, she would remind him of Cicero's famous maxim: "The higher we are placed, the more humbly we should walk."

He huffed out a laugh. Yes indeed, he felt humbled, not just by the responsibility that now weighed on his young shoulders but also by the trust his grandfather had placed in him. Staring at the magnificence that was Stanton Hall, he whispered a vow: "I shan't let you down, Grandfather. I promise."

"Admiring your new kingdom?" came a sarcastic voice from behind him. He swivelled around to see Benjamin strutting casually in his direction.

"As a matter of fact, I was," replied Daniel evenly. "It's quite a view, isn't it?"

Benjamin came to stand beside him and perused the massive stone building before them. Cocking his head to one side, he gave a knowing grin. "I have discovered an even better view," he boasted.

Daniel studied him quietly a second or two. Then he relented. "Very well. What is this view you talk of?"

"If you would follow me, I will show you." Benjamin pointed with his chin towards the house. "Let us go inside and you will see."

"This had better be good," muttered Daniel.

"It is," came Benjamin's airy reply. "Come along, brother mine."

Intrigued, Daniel followed his brother up the path that led back to Stanton Hall. They let each other into the house by the side door that was for the servants, and Benjamin proceeded to take him up the stairs. Mystified, Daniel followed his brother along the galleried corridor, past the library, until they reached a large sash window. He raised a sceptical brow as Benjamin lifted the sash up high to open the window.

"Dear brother, do you trust me?" enquired Benjamin mockingly.

"Absolutely," replied Daniel promptly, amused at the taken-aback expression on Benjamin's face.

"Well," mumbled his brother. "I am glad to hear it." He nodded towards the window. "If you climb over the sill, you will be able to stand on a wide ledge. From there, we will take two steps to the right, from where we can access a flat part of the roof. Just follow me. I assure you it is quite safe."

Daniel did not think twice. "Lead on," he said.

With a grin, Benjamin climbed over the window sill and perched on the ledge, then moved to the side. "Come on, your turn," he called out. Without hesitation, Daniel lifted a leg across the sill and came to stand on the ledge beside his brother, then followed Benjamin two steps to the right until they reached a part of the roof that was L-shaped, creating an unorthodox type of seat. Benjamin dropped down onto the cold slate tiles, and Daniel followed suit. Only then did he take in the view on display.

From where they sat, they could see the gardens and parkland, and beyond that, acres and acres of cultivated fields. Mulverley Grange could also be seen, a distant dot on the horizon. From this elevated perch, Daniel had a clear view of the vastness of the lands that were now his. As if reading his mind, Benjamin murmured beside him, "That is quite a kingdom you have inherited."

"Yes," replied Daniel laconically.

"Told you there was a better view."

Daniel laughed. "I will admit you were right."

They spent some minutes in quiet contemplation of the sight before them. Eventually, Benjamin broke the silence with a question. "So, how does it feel to be a viscount and master of all of this?"

Daniel sat back on his elbows, considering his answer. "It feels very strange to be called ‘my lord' by everyone," he said musingly. "Whenever they do, I am tempted to look behind me and see who they are really addressing."

"You can go sit in the House of Lords now, you know, and make frightfully boring speeches," observed Benjamin. "Fancy a trip to London?"

Daniel chuckled. "In time perhaps. Not just yet."

"You haven't answered my question fully," reminded Benjamin. "Are you excited about your new situation?"

"Excited? No, not really," replied Daniel. "It is more a feeling of pride, of gratitude to Grandfather, and also a sense of duty."

"Oh come on, Daniel, pull the other one!" expostulated Benjamin. "You are now your own man and rich to boot. Do not tell me you do not feel just a tad pleased at your new circumstances."

"Very well, I won't," retorted Daniel. "I was trying not to sound like I am gloating, but of course it pleases me to now be a man of independent means and rich to boot as you say."

"That's better," approved Benjamin. "Honesty is good."

"If we are talking honesty, then tell me, Benjamin, and tell me truly, how do you feel about the terms of Grandfather's will—specifically as they pertain to you?"

"I… I cannot complain about it," mumbled Benjamin. "The terms were fair. You get the land in England whereas I will in due course inherit the land in Ohio. I understand Grandfather's thinking. What he decided makes sense."

"You do not mind that I got all of this instead of you?" Daniel studied his brother carefully.

Benjamin met Daniel's stare head on. "When I think about it, this place could not have gone to anyone but you. I would not have wanted it for myself. To be honest, I cannot even imagine being in your position right now."

Daniel let out a relieved breath. "Good. I am glad." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I would not want anything to come between us," he said quietly.

His relief, however, was short-lived when Benjamin added, "I do, however, envy the freedom you now have to do what you want."

"It is not as much freedom as you think. Along with all this great wealth comes great responsibility that I am not free to walk away from." Daniel looked again at the miles of parkland before him and was conscious of the great obligation that now weighed on his young shoulders.

Benjamin was not convinced. He listed each point on his fingers. "You have the freedom to decide how you wish to spend your great wealth, to decide who you wish to befriend or marry, to decide what you wish to do with your time. You have a say in nearly every matter that involves this village, such as who gets appointed to be the next vicar of the parish, and you also have a say in what laws get passed in parliament. You are now in a position of great power, Daniel."

Daniel's mind was stuck on the second point. Did he have the freedom to befriend and marry whoever he wanted? His thoughts went to Ambrose, as they constantly did these days. No, he did not believe he had that freedom. If he could, he would proclaim his feelings for the man to all and sundry, and claim him as his chosen partner in life. No, he was not as free as Benjamin supposed. But all he said, in a flat tone, was, "I take your point."

Benjamin raked his hand through his hair in irritation. "I am sorry, Daniel. I do not want to sound mean and envious. I suppose, going back to your original question about the will, that my main feeling is one of loss. We are going to be parted as before too long we shall return to America while you will stay on here. And I fear that next time we meet, you will be much changed, for great power and wealth will inevitably change a person. I will have lost the brother of my childhood."

Daniel threw an arm around Benjamin's shoulder and drew his stiff, unyielding body towards him. "I may have money now, Benjamin, but I am still me. That will never change. You cannot rid yourself of me, you know. I will always be your brother."

"Lucky me!" snorted Benjamin.

"Indeed, lucky you," echoed Daniel with a smile.

He decided it was time to change the subject. Dropping his arm from around his brother, he turned to face him, narrowing his eyes. "So tell me," he drawled. "Where were you earlier today? I saw you walking down towards the village. Is it that draper's daughter you went to see? What was her name?"

"Daphne Phipps," said Benjamin, "and no, that affair ended the night of the Christmas ball when she failed to come to our assignation in the library."

"How very remiss of her."

"It was, but also a blessing, for instead of meeting with Daphne I had the pleasure of making Sarah Cranshaw's acquaintance," explained Benjamin.

At the name Cranshaw, Daniel began to scowl, overcome by a protective instinct for Ambrose's sister. "Do not tell me, Benjamin, that you are messing around with that lady."

His brother had the decency to look affronted. "Messing around? I am doing nothing of the sort. We are friends; that is all. She shares my interest in engineering. In fact, I am helping her to build a miniature railway in her house. That is where I was earlier."

Daniel's stern gaze did not waiver. "You will promise me now, Benjamin, not to overstep the boundaries of acceptable behaviour with Sarah Cranshaw."

"What has got you in a bother all of a sudden? And you need not worry. I have been a perfect gentleman without any need for a lecture from you."

"What has me in a bother," grated Daniel, "is that Sarah is the sister of Ambrose Cranshaw, a dear friend and someone who I shall be working closely with to manage my estate. I do not want him taking offence because my foolish brother has forgotten the proprieties when it comes to his sister."

"Have I not said I am being the perfect gentleman? Do cease with the tiresome lecturing. It ill becomes you," snapped Benjamin. Then he too narrowed his eyes. "And what do you mean he is your dear friend? Since when?"

"Since he took the time to show me around the estate," stated Daniel.

"Hmm. He seems very prim and buttoned up. I would not have thought him the type of person you would befriend."

Daniel's mouth curved into a smile as he thought of Ambrose—yet again. Benjamin had it right. Ambrose was prim and buttoned up, at least on the surface. Daniel was sure there was a lot more to the man than he allowed the world to see. There had been glimpses of that man when they had gotten drunk on sherry the day of his grandfather's death. As the alcohol had loosened inhibitions, Ambrose had told sparkly tales of childhood pranks. His eyes, those beautiful smoky eyes, had gleamed with mischievousness. It tickled Daniel that he had been privy to this private side of Ambrose's character. He wanted to see more of it.

However, he did not reveal this to Benjamin, contenting himself with saying, "Well, that goes to show how little you know of my likes and dislikes." He stood. "I think we have seen enough of this view for now," he said, and began to edge towards the window. Benjamin followed close behind. Once inside the house, and the window secured shut, Daniel headed towards the staircase, calling behind him, "Now I shall bid you goodbye."

"Where is it you are going?" wondered Benjamin.

Daniel paused his step and looked back at his brother with a grin. "I am going to pay a visit to my prim and buttoned up friend, of course."