“Indeed? What breeds are you trying to cross?”
Was that a hint of wickedness in his tone? She ignored the undertone and responded to the question.
“Southdown and a type of Merino. Merino produces the finest, most expensive wool. But Merino sheep are notoriously difficult to keep in England. Our weather doesn’t suit them. I’m hoping that by crossing them with the Southdown, we’d be able to produce a finer wool without the health difficulties that plague the Merino in England. This is the first flock, and I want to make sure it is being handled with care.”
“That’s impressive and very enterprising. What sparked your interest in business ventures?”
She shrugged. Nobody had ever asked her that. “At first, I took an interest in the estate out of boredom. At the beginning of my marriage, I was aimless. Becoming a duchess at the tender age of eighteen can be overwhelming. I was thoroughly inadequate and unprepared for the role. For the first few months, I used to follow the duke around like a lost puppy,” she added with a self-conscious laugh.
Gabriel didn’t laugh, just regarded her with something akin to tenderness. It did something to her insides, so she cleared her throat and went on.
“Harold was very patient with me. He took me under his wing and taught me everything about the running of the estate. When I showed interest and aptitude, he gave me more freedom. For the past eight years, as his health declined, I’ve been single-handedly running the estate.”
“The duke is very fortunate to have you.”
She didn’t want to feel warmed by his praise, but it was impossible not to. How many men would see her abilities as an asset instead of an unnatural inclination?
Society valued feminine skills in women, such as embroidery, music, or painting. None of which she excelled at. She couldn’t paint or embroider to save her life. Her singing voice was mediocre, and her skill at the pianoforte even worse. But she shone at business and the management of a large estate. It meant something that he considered those abilities valuable.
Especially considering recent revelations about her marriage. Doubts had plagued her, and she’d questioned her value as a wife when the duke revealed he had kept a mistress. He had never really wanted to marry her. He had tolerated her but had never wanted or needed her. Now, with a single phrase, Brentworth had helped her see she was an asset to the dukedom.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “Now, let’s hurry or they will have finished by the time we get there.” With that, she spurred her horse into a gallop.
CHAPTER 13
IF HE HAD FELT AN ATTRACTIONbefore, he was now quickly becoming completely infatuated with the duchess. And even seeing the danger he should avoid, he kept running straight into it. He was more resolved than ever to see the bargain through.
The next day, he met her at the stables as usual. But this time, he came prepared. He had packed a picnic and hoped she wasn’t too busy today to enjoy an alfresco breakfast with him. She arrived at the same time as usual, showing no surprise at finding him there already waiting for her. Good. Let her become accustomed to his presence.
This time, when he put his hands on her waist to lift her onto the sidesaddle, she didn’t tense. With perfect aplomb, she placed her palms on his shoulders, anticipating his boost. Then allowed him to help her arrange her skirt. It was a small sign of ease around him, but it pleased him immensely.
“I hope your duties will allow for a leisurely déjeuner sur l’herbe today,” he said as they cantered out of the stable yard.
“A breakfast picnic? What a novel idea. As it happens, I have no duties today. I was planning just a pleasure ride.”
That word, ‘pleasure’ coming from her lips, did something to his insides.Oh, darling, you have no idea how much I want to show you pleasure.All in good time. For now, progress was being made, and that was enough.
“Excellent. You are in charge of finding a suitable spot, since you know the estate and I don’t.”
“Hmm, let’s see,” she said, biting her lower lip, an action that inspired thoughts of biting that plump lip himself, then soothing it with his tongue. “Oh, I know the perfect spot! There’s this wonderful meadow. It’s protected on all sides by hills and woodlands, so flowers bloom well into autumn. Now in November, it should be carpeted with Michaelmas Daisies and Red Campion. A veritable sea of purple. There’s also a brook that bubbles through it. I haven’t been to this place in ages.”
“Sounds heavenly. Lead us there, Duchess.”
“It is a little ways away. It will take us half an hour to get there,” she warned.
“No matter. I have nowhere else to be today. You?”
“No, I suppose not. And the weather promises a splendid day. Fine then. Onwards to Elysian Pasture!” she said as she spurred her horse into an easy gallop.
“Elysian Pasture?” he asked, not hiding his amusement as he came up next to her.
She threw back her head and laughed. A joyful, carefree laugh that curled around his heart.
“A rather flamboyant name that some Stanhope ancestor bestowed on the field. No doubt the meadow has been the scene of bucolic entertainments for centuries now.”
“Have you ever hosted a fete there?”
“No. I have thought about it, but the distance from the house presents a logistical challenge. And we have another, more convenient spot near the house, by the lake. But I’ve always thought it would be a splendid place to have a picnic.”
