“I… I am your wife, Your Grace. I am at your disposal.”
“You are. And when we are alone, call me Alex, please,” the duke said, then gestured toward a pile of what appeared to be letters on the ebony desk. “Go on, take a look and tell me what you think.”
Emmaline hesitated. Was this some kind of trick? Was he deceiving her into complacency only to remind her that she was a lady and a duchess now and should not fill her head with such nonsense?
“Please,” he said, “I should be grateful for your opinion.”
Emmaline rose to her feet and on trembling legs, carried herself back to the desk.
She glanced over her shoulder and waited for a nod of approval from the duke before picking up the pile of correspondence.
Reading through them she found that a number of them were letters from tenants struggling to pay their taxes to the duke's estate. Another couple were from the duke's financial advisor about his sister's education and there were yet more regarding debts to be paid to the duke.
“It appears you have a great deal of payments to settle but also a great deal of debts to be paid to you, Your Gr… Alex,” Emmaline said, looking through the letters again with her business head on. “I am not sure what use my advice would be. I am no duke. I have not handled such matters.”
“Try,” the duke insisted, his tone deep and almost sultry.
Emmaline looked over the letters again and, clearing her throat, said, “In regard to your tenants in the country, how many months taxes are owed?”
She felt him watching her but was unable to meet his gaze. His curiosity was palpable.
“Some only a month, others more.”
Emmaline nodded acknowledgement.
“Then I would suggest that those only a month in arrears be given the benefit of the doubt and those deeper in debt be encouraged to pay what they can until they are back on their feet. Also, I would look at your ledgers to see if perhaps the tax you command of them might perhaps be a little high?”
Realizing what she had said, she looked over her shoulder at the duke, half-expecting him to be outraged at such an accusation.
Instead, he looked thoughtful.
“What of the other matters?”
Emmaline thoughtfully. “As to the debts owed you, I would suggest that maybe, like myself, you might find a way for them to pay you in service rather than money if they are unable to pay?”
“I am afraid that one may not be possible,” the duke said, shaking his head. “These are large sums of money I am owed and if I am unable to redeem them, how am I to pay my own?”
Emmaline gulped. It was a valid question.
“I have often found that my father has a sentimental heart and somewhat the attitude of a hoarder. There are things within his house that he has not laid eyes on for a decade or more and they are of little use to him. Perhaps, begging your pardon, Your Grace, there might be similar such items within your walls? Or perhaps land you have yet unused serving no purpose, or maybe even a horse in your stables sitting unused? Your father's or perhaps even your mother's?”
On a roll, she glanced down at herself and pointed out, “I have not heard tell of a Duchess of Westmarch for many years and so I can only assume your mother, God rest her soul, has not been present for some time yet you still have her gowns, and I might suspect, her jewels and such?”
When she looked at the duke again, she saw his eyes darken. This time, she was certain she had gone too far. It was one thing to suggest moving money about to make ends meet but suggesting a man sell off his dead mother's things was quite another.
She held her breath as the duke pushed himself to his feet and closed the distance between them. He did not take his gaze from hers even when he stood before her. And when he reached for the letters in her hand, his fingers lingered upon hers in a way that made her quiver.
“You are either a brave or a very foolish young lady, Emmaline,” he said without so much as blinking. “Though, I do believe your advice is not without merit.”
Emmaline gulped hard. Her throat felt raw with emotion.
The two of them stared at each other for a long while, locked in each other's gaze until the duke took the letters from her hand and said, “That is quite enough of that.”
It was only as he looked away to place the letters back on the desk that the spell was finally broken and Emmaline was able to speak again, “Your Grace,Alex,if I may, if there is such trouble in your business ventures, why do you persist with this devil's act?”
Having turned to the desk, the duke caught himself on the edge of it, his entire body visibly tensing at her question.
“You could never understand.”
