“Why? Because I was late yesterday, or because I didn’t retire until later than I should?”
He chuckled when she quickly looked around. He knew that nobody was close enough to hear his comments. Work hadn’t even begun yet.
As the torches were lit, the workers took empty buckets and walked to the end of the next row of grapes and started cutting bunches as they had done the day before and he could not help but smile, even as his muscles protested from the overexertion of yesterday.
“You are the first person I have seen who was almost gleeful to be cutting grapes.”
“That is because this is something that I always wanted to do.”
“Then why did you not?” she asked.
“I did not live here,” he reminded her.
“That is your fault. You have been an earl for almost seven years. You could have participated at any time.”
“I wish I would have,” he admitted almost to himself. “Honestly, Idid not think about it. It was something I had wanted to do as a child and followed my father around, but I was always too young to participate.”
“Is it everything that you had hoped it would be?” she asked with a laugh.
“It is more,” he answered honestly. “Grapes and wine are in my blood, and that goes back generations. I should know every process from the planting of a root to loading the last barrel of wine in the cellar. It is so much more than reports and income.”
Sterling surprised himself at the passion behind his words.
Trade Wynd and the earldom existed before the vineyard became the property of the Wynd family. The part of him that was English, the earl, understood his place in Society, the importance of their import-export business. The Dutch side of him, and only since he arrived at Wyndview Farm, felt the tradition and history of the vineyard deep in his soul.
Before he came here, his life was one of duty and Sterling knew what was expected of him. He took his seat in Parliament, gave careful thought before voting on issues, and built their business beyond what his father established, like those before him, which would leave them wealthier. He was content and had not given thought to whether he was happy or unhappy because that wasn’t what was important. At least it wasn’t supposed to be to the Earl of Wyndham.
His father had taught him what was important and that was the earldom and Trade Wynd and that was all that mattered. At Wyndview Farm, he had discovered so much more and his mother had been right to make certain that he remembered who he had been and who the family had been before. He would likely be sailing away a changed man and uncertain when he would return.
Sterling glanced at Caroline who was bent over and cutting the stem of a bunch of grapes. He wanted to take her with him but was uncertain if she would go.
Once enough buckets had been filled for the vats, Hallaway selected workers who had been cutting grapes and instructed them to go to the barn, leaving the rest to toil in the sun. As Caroline remained to cut, so did he since Hallaway hadn’t given him instructions on what he should do.
The rest of the day was spent much like the first, sharing conversations with Caroline and some of the others around him. However, when it came time to crush the grapes, and after they had shared the midday meal, he had been sent to the barn to help with the barrels. First, positioning them at the lowest point of the vats to collect the juice that flowed from an opening, surprised by how much a vat of grapes produced. He was then shown how to seal the barrel, then rolled it to the cellar and with the help of others, lifted it to a shelf so that it could rest on its side as the wine fermented while waiting to be shipped.
*
A chill sweptover Caroline’s body after Sterling had left her bed and returned to the house.
For nearly two months, they had spent the days harvesting grapes, side by side, teasing and talking, and at night, he came to her after everyone had retired.
They were not always intimate. Sometimes she simply lay in his arms as they talked of their past, what his life was like in England. He talked about his brothers and his education. He described some of the debates in Parliament and the issues he cared most about.
Caroline did not have anything of interest to share with him. She was the daughter of an estate manager who had gone to London for a Season because her grandfather was a baron.
He insisted that her life was not so simple, she claimed that it was and it pained her not to tell him the full truth about what she hadbecome.
Some of their passion has lessened, but tenderness grew. They weren’t as hurried but took their time in caresses and learning each other’s body in a way that only heightened her pleasure, a slow build to release that left her satiated in ways she had never imagined.
These past two months, the days and the nights, she would cherish for the rest of her life. She had loved again, and she would not regret one moment after he was gone no matter how much missing Sterling hurt.
What saddened her, and likely the reason for the chill, was tonight may have been the last that they shared with the other. Sterling did not say so, but the harvest was complete, the barrels of wine were stored and there was nothing left to do except to clean the baskets and the vats and store everything that was not needed until next year.
They were not needed for that, which meant that Sterling would want to meet with her father.
That frightened her more than anything.
So much could go wrong. Her chill might as well be foreboding and Caroline might not breathe again until he was safely away. She might suffer from an aching heart from the loss but at least her family’s position would be secure.
