Seventeen Stones (14 page)

The sitting
room was frankly luxurious, decorated in navy blue and gold.  Mia sat in a navy
on cream striped chair and Mrs. Wallace said “Now, I’m off to see to some
things Miss, if you wait right there, Mr. Dempsey should be along shortly.” 
Mia realized, too late, that she had left her bag with her books in the
carriage. 

Mr.
Dempsey arrived more quickly than she could have hoped.  He rushed into the
sitting room, slightly breathless, but in excellent spirits.  “Miss Amelia! 
Mr. Frederick Dempsey, at your service.  Sorry about my tardy appearance, but
the buggy I took to the village busted an axle, and I was in a bit of a fix to
get back.”      

He
led Mia to the breakfast room.  It was tiled in golden sandstone, and had a
breathtaking view of a formal rose garden.  White marble fountains played
tinkling music while the last blooms of summer scented the air.

Mr.
Dempsey smiled at Mia’s wide-eyed look.  “Yes Miss, it’s one of the most
fantastic views in the house.  The ballroom looks out into this garden as well,
so it’s one of the prettiest in the place.  Sebastian, the gardener, is
insufferable about it.”  He laughed and attacked his food as it floated into
the dining room.    During lunch, he told Mia what had happened with the buggy,
between quick bites.

“We
don’t use the buggy that often, just to run to the village to pick up a few
things, or over to the home farm.  We use the carts for most errands.  I
suppose the buggy couldn’t handle that last bump.  The blacksmith will have it
fixed tomorrow, but it caused a bit of a problem getting home.  I had to borrow
a saddle from Mr. Stubbs at the local home for wanded children.”  Mr. Dempsey
blushed inexplicably and changed the subject.

“Mr.
Smith should be here by now.  I can’t imagine him being late for anything.  He
and my father are the trustees for the estate you know.”  It turned out that
the elder Mr. Dempsey had been her mother’s steward since Alexandra Rusticov
was a small child and her own parents died.  Mia hadn’t even considered the
possibility of grandparents, aunts, uncles or cousins.  There was a sense of
loss in the new knowledge.  Thankfully, the young steward was preoccupied with
his plate and didn’t notice anything that might have passed on Mia’s face.

The
current steward of the estate was very young for his position, only just
twenty-five.  He was well trained, but Mia was given the distinct impression
that the position was considered by him, and by everyone around him, as
contingent on her approval when she came of age.

Mr.
Dempsey had the typical old blood coloring, black hair and blue eyes.  His skin
was tanned from constant exposure to the sun.  It made his teeth seem very white
when he smiled, and he smiled often.  His face was unlined, but lacked the
stiffness that would come as he used his wand more often, if he ever did.

He
grinned again as he told her “I went to college and got my wand, but I
apprenticed here at the estate.  I never wanted to stay in the City.  Better to
live out here, where a man can breathe, and do something other than exhaust
himself waving a stick around all day.”  He nodded to the gardens.  “I’m tied
to the land here.  Three years in the City were a misery for me.”

As they
ate, Mr. Dempsey told her a little about the estate, his father, and what he
did.  “Da tried to hang on, he really did.  I was here to help, so I took as
much off him as I could, but of course he wanted to handle everything himself. 
He wasn’t young when he had me…we’ve never used a lot of wanded magic, being as
close to the village as we are, so he was thirty-two when I was born.  His
heart failed last summer and the local herbalist was sitting right there, or
he’d be dead.  She convinced him that he would have to retire.  He’d been
grooming me for the position since I’d told him that I still wanted it after
going to the college.   I just had to take it up earlier than we expected.”  He
smiled in a sardonic way.  “Mum allows us two hours a week to discuss estate
matters, so we haven’t lost him entirely.  And sometimes, if there’s something
pressing I sneak over and ask him a quick question or two.  But mostly we leave
him be.  He’s happy with his woodwork and volunteering.  He donates the toys he’s
whittled to a home for wandless orphans twenty miles away.  He spends his days
making toys and complaining about my shocking lack in providing him with
grandchildren.”  His smile faded around the edges.

Mr.
Dempsey admitted that there wasn’t a Mrs. Dempsey as yet, but Mia suspected
that there would be one soon if he had anything to do with it.  They left the
table when Mr. Smith arrived and declined lunch.  “I ate on the way out Miss
Rusticov.  If you’ll accompany me to the office, we can begin going over the
books.”

Two
hours later Mia was very ready for the tea tray.  It was even more complicated
than she’d dreaded.  The estate was like a small city, producing products like
clay and finished pottery, food products like wheat and corn, and breeding
animals, particularly unicorn crossbreed racers and hunters.  The crossbreeds
favored the horses more than the unicorns, but they had a fineness of bone, a
lightness of step, and speed that was unmistakable.  Unicorns didn’t care for
riders, but the hybrid horses didn’t seem to mind.  They weren’t quite as
intelligent as a unicorn, but they left the average horse gasping for breath
literally and figuratively.

The
estate also collected tithes, provided goods for the local wanded home and
wandless orphanage, and negotiated with the City for the protective spells that
kept the villages safe.  A certain quota of grain and goods were sent to the City
every harvest.  Accountants for the council kept strict records of the tithes. 
Mr. Dempsey’s records were equally precise, because dealing with the CTA (City
Tithe Authority) was a nightmare.  Mr. Smith wasn’t alone in hoping that Mia
would become a Greatlady.  Many of the tithes were cut in half for the
Greatlords and Ladies, and those who could set their own protective barriers
were able to add the fees normally paid to the City to their own funds.      

Mr.
Smith apparently decided that full emersion was the best way to become
acclimated to the affairs of the estate.  When they sat down in the office, he
pulled out the books and started asking rapid questions of Mr. Dempsey, pausing
to explain to Mia only when she asked a question.  “The north fields produced
more this year, I noticed.  That’s three years running.  I think we can safely
expand the use of the new fertilizer to the other fields now.  I’d also like to
try it out in one of the orchards…”  She noticed a large map of the estate the
moment she walked into the office; it was hard not to.  It was shaded in
rainbow hues that changed every time Mr. Smith tapped the frame with his wand. 
Apparently the colors meant something to the gentlemen, because they kept
cross-referencing them with the ledgers.

Despite
the fact that she had to puzzle out many of the cryptic comments they made, she
felt that she’d gotten a pretty decent overview of the estate.  It was harvest
time, so she had a good idea of what was being grown and sold and for how
much.  It must be a vast estate to have so many animals and pastureland and
orchards. 

When
the tea tray came in Mr. Dempsey excused himself, saying that he had a few
things that he needed to see to this afternoon.  Mr. Smith smiled fondly after
the young man as he left.  “He’s as honest as his father, and even harder
working.  Came back from the College and settled into the position like he was
born to it.”  Mia poured another cup of tea.  “The books seem to be in
excellent order.”  Even she could see that everything was strictly accounted
for.  “I assume he’s been a responsible manager for the estate?”

Mr.
Smith grinned.  “Yes.  He works too many hours, but he had his father as an
example, and the elder Mr. Dempsey rode this estate from sunup to sundown.  He
was a good friend of your grandfather’s.”  Mia tucked that bit of information
away for later. 

They
went over a few other details including the rental of the estate town home, and
the rent on the manor itself.  “It allowed us to keep our trained staff.  I
hope you approve.  The lease expired last month.  I’d like to extend the lease
on the townhome for another two years, since you won’t be able to make use of
it until then.”  Mia agreed and he moved on to the next item.

After
another half hour, Mia worked up the courage to ask a question.  She said it
quickly, while Mr. Smith was between breaths.  “Mr. Smith?  How long has it
been since the staff has had a wanded healer out to see them?”  Mr. Smith
looked intently at her.  “Not since your mother was last at the estate, before
your birth.”  Mia pushed right through: the worst Mr. Smith could do was tell
her no.  “I noticed that the stable master has a missing tooth.  If it’s been nearly
fifteen years since they saw a wanded healer, I expect many of the servants
have needs that require wanded magic to fix.” 

Mr.
Smith’s mouth quirked a little at her talk of being ‘nearly’ fifteen.  She
pretended not to notice.  Emma had always looked at her with the same
expression when she started talking about ‘nearly’ ten the day after her ninth
birthday.  She was only a few months from her birthday.  “Is there any way the
estate can pay for a healer to come out and see to everyone?  I’m sure that the
local midwife is very good, but there’s only so much you can do with herbs.  No
one has invented a potion as yet that will grow a tooth back.”

Mr. Smith
seemed pleased by her request.  “I believe that we could arrange for that.  The
elder Mr. Dempsey and I are the trustees, and with your permission, we can make
it a yearly visit.”  Mia nodded.

It
took them a few minutes to arrange the particulars, and for Mr. Smith to note
them in his ever-present ledgers.  He was smiling a bit as he scratched out the
information and this made Mia feel comfortable enough to broach the next
subject.    

“Mr.
Dempsey isn’t married…yet.  I sensed that it wasn’t because he didn’t have a
bride picked out.”  Mr. Smith nodded.  “Mr. Dempsey has been courting Miss Adeline
Stubbs.  Her parents run the wanded home in the village.  She isn’t wanded
herself, but her father is of course, and both her brothers are.  The youngest
one is still at college in fact.  It would be an excellent match all around.”

Mia
cocked an eyebrow and finally understood what Seer Glen was talking about.  She
knew
there was something more.  Mr. Smith shifted in his seat.  “Mr.
Stubbs is against the match because of Mr. Dempsey’s rather precarious position
here.”  Mia nodded; no father would want his daughter to marry a man who
couldn’t provide for her.  Mr. Smith sighed.  “It’s worse because he refused to
take the steward’s residence when he took the position.  It was a noble thing
to do, saving his mother from packing when his father wasn’t well.  But he
lives in a small cottage down the hill.  It’s fine for a bachelor residence,
but no girl of gentle breeding would be content with it.”

Mr.
Smith continued.  “Even if you wanted to declare his position secure, you won’t
have the legal right to do so before you turn sixteen.  I’m afraid there’s
nothing to be done about it.  Mr. Dempsey will simply have to wait.”  Mia was
thinking.  She didn’t want to move the elder Dempsey out of the home he’d lived
in: she owed the old man for the current prosperity of the estate.  But she
didn’t want the younger Dempsey to have to waste a year waiting for her to come
into her inheritance.  That didn’t seem right.  She sat quietly for a moment,
intently examining the map on the wall.

“Who’s
living in the dower house?”  Mr. Smith pulled out a ledger and consulted for a
moment.  “The dower house has been unoccupied for four generations, except for sporadic
use during large parties.  Your mother did a bit to repair the residence, but
it has had only minimal upkeep for the last fifteen years.  A maid goes in once
a month, and cleans and makes sure that there aren’t any leaks or pests.”

Mia
had a small smile on her face.  She didn’t have any use for a dower house, and
wouldn’t in her own generation.  By the time it became a problem something else
could be arranged.  “Let me see if I understand correctly, I couldn’t declare
Mr. Dempsey’s position permanent, or give him a raise in wages.”  Mr. Smith
added “But part of his contract includes living quarters and you
could
allow him to live in the finest residence on the property.  Your trustees
could, if they were so inclined, refurbish the dower house, since I’m sure it’s
past due for renovations and new furniture.”  Mr. Smith smiled.  “Basic upkeep
is our responsibility.”

Pleased
with their manipulation of the situation, the two of them went to visit the
dower house and see what renovations it would require if Mr. Dempsey were
bringing home a new bride.  Mr. Smith smiled at the building.  “Talk about
aging gracefully!”  Mia had to agree.  Even with no one living in her, the old
house had a charming exterior that held against the current state of neglect. 
It was three stories tall, made of pale granite that wasn’t local.  If the
landscaping was a bit shabby around the edges, the foundation seemed firm.  The
house was in better shape than anyone had any right to expect.