The Accidental Countess (The Aristocrat Diaries 3)

I tilted my head to the side. “And work on these if business goes well?”

“Or potentially demolish them,” he replied. “There are other options for the barns rather than just cottages, but I do like the house and the location.”

“I don’t know if the barns are worth the cost of the renovations. They’re also quite an awkward size for anything other than holiday cottages.”

“You’re right.” He walked to the door and pushed it open. “You know, if it was just one, it wouldn’t be so bad, but the roofing…”

“Yes. I know.” I grimaced and stepped out into the sunshine after him. The barns were so dark and grim that it seemed blinding. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied, catching the auctioneer glancing over at us. “But Ivan’s coming over now, so I need to decide quickly.”

He was, indeed, making a beeline for us.

“Leave it to me,” I said quickly, just quietly enough that Ivan couldn’t hear.

“Well, what do you think?” The beefy man clasped his hands together in front of his generous stomach. “She’s lovely, isn’t she?”

“The house is beautiful,” I replied before Matthew had a chance to say anything. “The barns are a little more run down than I thought, though.”

Matthew glanced at me.

“Plenty of potential,” Ivan said to me. “The planning permission is extensive, and I’m sure it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“I don’t know.” I bit my lip and looked over my shoulder. “What’s the starting price at the auction?”

Ivan’s gaze quickly shot to Matthew before it came back to me. “If you’re interested, it doesn’t need to go to auction.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“The starting price is one-thirty.”

One hundred and thirty thousand.

Wow.

That was pretty good, when you considered the main house.

Actually, why was it that low?

Hmm. I was no expert, but that usually meant there was an issue somewhere that needed to be sorted.

“The reserve?” I questioned.

“No reserve set,” Ivan confirmed. “The owner would like to sell it as soon as possible.”

“Has it ever been up for sale before?”

“Yes, via the regular market.”

“So… Why is it up for auction?”

Matthew stepped up beside me and inclined his head, looking at Ivan with interest.

Ivan swallowed. “It fell through. Something to do with the buyer’s business.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Matthew looked at me. “What?”

“What’s wrong with it?” I repeated, holding out my hands. “The house looks sound, by all accounts, and there’s really nothing wrong with the barns if they’re used as storage or animal housing. Even for horses they just need a little bit of work. It’s dirt cheap, has no reserve, and has already fallen through once. Why? What’s wrong with it?”

He blinked at me for a moment, then turned to Ivan. “She has a point.”

Ivan sighed. “The roof on the main house needs replacing, all the windows need to be brought up to date, and the foundation on one of the barns is shot. It needs to be knocked down and rebuilt to be functional.”

Ah.

There it was.

Ivan’s phone rang again, cutting through the awkward silence that had descended when I’d forced him into being honest. He held up a hand and ducked away, bringing the phone to his ear with a vibrant, “Hello?”

Matthew pulled me away and dipped his head close to mine. “I’m impressed you got him to admit that.”

“It was obvious something had to be wrong. The windows aren’t a big deal, and it’s pretty standard for older houses to need windows that belong in the twenty-first century, but the roof… Ouch.”

“That’s a big thing that needs doing. That roof is not small—it’s probably going to cost about forty thousand to fix.”

“Exactly. I’ll bet that’s why the previous buyer dropped out, and why the seller just wants it gone. They don’t want to pay for it, either.” I glanced back at the house. “That said, if you can get it for the right price…”

“It’s a worthwhile investment, even if the barns are demolished.”

I looked up at him. “I think so, but I wouldn’t make any offers until it’s been surveyed, just in case there’s something else and he’s bluffing it.”

“How did you figure it out? That there was something to it?”

“I don’t know anything about construction,” I said softly. “But I do love architecture, and Georgian is some of my favourite. If you look around the back, there’s a part of the roof that doesn’t match the rest. The fascia is completely different, despite an effort to match it. It’s plastic; see how much brighter it is? Whereas the rest are wood, and old wood by the looks of it. I thought there was a fifty-fifty chance it was either an extension or a part of the roof that had been repaired at some point in the last thirty or so years. When Ivan didn’t mention either, it made me think.”