“You mean William, her brother,” Sterling corrected.
“No. William follows her a lot but it is Mrs. Sutcliffe who—”
“—Johnny, who are you talking to and what are you telling him?”
Sterling looked up to find an older stable hand approaching with concern. He had worked next to the man when they were cutting grapes—Lyle was his name if Sterling remembered correctly.
“I was just telling Lord Wyndham about Mrs. Sutcliffe.”
“You are mistaken.” There was more warning than correction in Lyle’s tone.
Did everyone know that Caroline was doing the duties of the estate manager?
Wasn’t her being her father’s secretary, mother’s companion, temporary housekeeper, and sometimes gardener enough? Maybe that was why they were confused—because she did so much because everyone knew that women were not estate managers.
“Thank you,” he said. “I will not be needing a horse now.”
Sterling stepped back outside and wondered what to do next.
The boy had to be wrong. If Caroline was the estate manager, he would know. She would have told him.
Once again Sterling returned inside.
“If Mr. Hallaway is not with the grapes, where might he be?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Johnny answered with a grin. “The cemetery just down the road by the old church.”
Bloody hell! What was going on at Wyndview Farm?
“I believe I will need that horse after all.”
*
It took allafternoon of walking the estate with the groundskeeper and taking notes before Caroline knew everything that needed to be accomplished. She then discussed those with the groundskeeper and in the order in which they should be done, her concerns, and solutions. With her notebook in hand, she returned to her house to write more detailed notes that would be needed when she prepared her next quarterly report to send to Sterling. She also needed to update the records on how many barrels of wine they had produced this harvest and the anticipation for next year. Those amounts were all fresh in her mind since the last barrel had been stored yesterday. She had just failed to make note of it because she had been tired and then Sterling had come to her room.
By the time she had finished, neither William nor her father had returned and it worried her. So much so that she had to search for them herself, only to find her father walking back with William, a bottle in his hand.
Caroline groaned and rushed forward.
“Caroline,” her father greeted happily. “It was an excellent harvest. I was just telling your mother all about it. She would be happy, and proud of you.”
“Come along, Father. Let us get you inside.”
She and her brother ushered her father around the main house and then onto the terrace so that they could enter their own home.
“I will brew some tea. Very strong tea,” Caroline said and rushed to the kitchen. When she returned, she took the bottle from him and handed him the tea.
At least he wasn’t too deep in his cups, just enough that it put him in a pleasant mood. She supposed it could be worse.
“Father, you need to listen to me,” she began.
“I listen, Caro. I always listen, but you do not hear me.”
“Oh, Father, but I do. You just refuse to understand.”
“What would you have me understand?”
“It is imperative that you meet with Wyndham tomorrow. You must also be able to answer any question he has about the estate.”
