The Heart of a Duke (9 page)

“She has a way about her once her mind is made up,” Daniel said ruefully.

Mr. Mabry rubbed a hand over his crown of dark hair, looking a bit lost. “Well, I . . . Well, then.” His wariness had returned. “Did you want to speak to His Grace’s bailiff, I’m sure he could—”

“I am sure he could, but as I am here now, why don’t I begin with you? I can speak with the bailiff in due course.” It was a half-truth. “Please, will you walk the immediate grounds with me?”

Mabry appeared torn but after a brief struggle, he gave a curt nod. “I can.”

“Good. Why don’t you lead the way. I understand my brother is bringing in Irish laborers?” He refrained from explaining where he had received his information, omitting its colorful delivery. “Are there not enough tenants to do the work? You mentioned vacant houses?”

As they walked, broken panes of glass, loose shutters, and other signs of disrepair on a few houses answered his question. What he did not understand was why they were left in such a state, not to mention vacant, rather than turned over to new tenants. Why hadn’t Edmund overseen their upkeep?

Mabry thrust his hands into his pockets. He studied the unoccupied houses, and then his focus settled on Daniel, his eyes narrowing. “Are you returned for good, sir? Or just visiting?”

He understood the underlying question. Did he hold a position of authority in regard to matters of the estate? The short and definitive answer was no. Daniel hadn’t inherited the estates, but he had inherited his father’s love of the land and a sense of responsibility to honor his family’s legacy. He refused to sit by and see Edmund squander it.

“I am not leaving for a while, and I do plan to speak to my brother about any concerns I have in regard to the estate. Any information you can share provides me with a better understanding of where things stand today and helps me to make a more informed decision.” He spoke the truth.

Perhaps Julia was right, and Edmund had changed, and he would listen to Daniel. Right. And soon Daniel would be jousting with windmills. He met Mabry’s hard look. “More importantly, I give you my word that anything you share with me will be kept in strict confidence between us. No names will be mentioned. I promise you, you can speak freely.”

Mabry gave Daniel the same keen scrutiny that he had earlier, and finally replied with a curt nod. He continued walking. “My family has been tenants on this land for nigh on five generations. I grew up here and remember you and your brother ridin’ with the late duke.” He glanced at Daniel and fell quiet for a few strides.

“Your father liked to visit the tenants, to ride over the land, to speak with the farmers. Sometimes with his bailiff and sometimes without.” They stopped when they came to the edge of one of the fields. He gazed out over the ploughboys, thrusting his hands into his overall pockets. “Your father was a different type of landholder than your brother.”

“Bedford doesn’t visit too much?”

“He does not.” He echoed Julia’s account of Bedford’s early years in London, filling in the later years that she could not account for. “Bedford returned about six years ago. First thing he did was to get a new bailiff, firin’ your father’s man. Rents were doubled and household repairs were to come out of our own pockets.” Mabry rubbed his neck. “Tenants left.” He nodded to the empty houses.

“We got by. A year passed, and Napoleon was defeated. The war with America also ended, and then the soldiers started comin’ home in droves. Millions of discharged veterans seekin’ work. Many willin’ to take lower wages to get it.” Mabry shrugged. “Your brother hired ’em. Cut our wages to match theirs. Then the Irish started comin’.” He nodded to the ploughboys, his expression grim. “An even cheaper labor. Gettin’ by got a bit harder, as many of us were forced off the fields. Not enough work for everyone. More tenants left.” Mabry kicked at a stone in the dirt, sending it skittering across the road. “The end of the wars also meant foreign grain could enter Britain, so our grain prices fell. In response, our wages were further lowered, while the price of bread rose.

“Last year was a bad harvest. We could have muddled through with what we reaped the year before, but many of the workers being immigrants and veterans, some have never farmed or worked the land before. They didn’t know to get the corn ricks thatched and covered before the first rain, and we lost half a crop. Rations down, people go hungry.” He faced Daniel. “Hungry people lead to poachin’ and crime. Lost a few cattle and some sheep last winter.

“Your brother soon started runnin’ through bailiffs. If one listened to our complaints, he was replaced.” He nodded in the direction of Bedford Hall. “Two more families gave notice ’cause ain’t no guarantee of work no more. Pretty soon all the work will go to seasonal laborers. If we resort to doing just seasonal work, we can’t claim relief from the poor rate because you have to work at least a year to be able to make a claim.”

Mabry spat on the ground and lifted his gaze to Daniel’s, bitterness contorting his features. “Sir, I suggest you have that talk with your brother. I suggest you do so before their ain’t no more of us left. I expect that’s not what you wanted to hear for your homecomin’, but somebody needs to hear it, fore it’s too late.” He clamped his jaw shut, and his brooding gaze moved back to the fields.

Mabry had said more than enough. Daniel looked out over the lines of ploughed earth, seeing nothing, his thoughts churning.

Robbie had written of the grumbles over Bedford’s management, and Taunton had warned of the same. Daniel had expected problems, but along the lines of neglected repairs, tenants’ feuds, bad crops, and the fallout of a poor harvest. Not this. A tale of stringent, penny-pinching, parsimonious management.

The six ducal properties, covering two hundred thousand acres, should bring in an annual income of eighty thousand pounds. It was a small fortune. Thus, it begged the question, why the bloody hell did Edmund need more money? Was he in debt? And what long-term price was he willing to pay to extract it?

The estate’s profits were reaped through the land. Without reliable, stable, and loyal men to work it, the whole system collapsed. It didn’t take an astute businessman to understand the age-old cycle, or that Edmund’s cost-cutting measures were like shoving a wedge into the spokes of a spinning wheel. If he continued unabated, everything would grind to a stop. Daniel’s words to Taunton echoed.
Inadequate wages breeds disgruntled workers, which leads to mutiny or desertion.
Not to mention, poaching and crime
.

He scrubbed his hands down his face. Damn Edmund. Damn him for apparently not changing a whit in ten years. For being a cruel, selfish bastard.

He dropped his arms. Changes had to be made. He didn’t know what or how, but he had to intercede. Things could not continue on as they were. He recalled the letter that had lured him back to England.
Claim your destiny
. His eyes squinted out over the fields. This was his destiny. He might not be able to claim it, but he could bloody well save it. He’d have Robbie add it to his agenda.

At least Mabry’s words removed one item from his growing list. He no longer needed to speak to Julia about Edmund. If she was as bright a businesswoman as her father touted her to be, everything that needed to be said was right here.

If Julia was still bent on marrying Edmund, well, then, she was not the woman Daniel believed her to be. Like Don Quixote, his beautiful warrior would be seeing illusions instead of windmills.

But Daniel believed otherwise. He had come to know Julia over the past couple of days. She may be idealistic, but she was strong and brave. She would see the truth. And he would be there to help her pick up the pieces once she did.

That was what faithful squires did.

J
ULIA
spread a blanket on the ground near the apple tree where Jonathan and Bea scrambled like monkeys. Neatening her skirts, she leaned back against the chipped and peeling picket fence and closed her eyes. She needed to sit for a minute.

Bea and Jonathan’s bellows drifted to her. She had banned Jonathan’s use of the word
eejits
, but dared not contemplate what choice language would replace it. She doubted her father would find his son’s expanded lexicon as amusing as Daniel had.

Thinking of Daniel, she opened her eyes to peer along the stretch of road leading to the fields. He had disappeared well over an hour ago, which was fine, for it had taken her and Emily that long to deal with the disarray in Mabry’s cottage.

At least Mrs. Mabry was recovering. She had even regained enough strength to deliver a stinging diatribe against Edmund’s bailiff. While Emily shared a small repast with Mrs. Mabry, Julia had escaped outside, having lost her appetite over all she had heard. She had also wanted to check on Jonathan, ensure he hadn’t killed anyone.

She squinted into the apple tree, locating her brother. He straddled a low branch, a wide-eyed, owlish look crossing his features as he listened to Bea, who no doubt was prattling on about the ills of the Irish. Julia’s lips twitched, for truth be told, she shared Daniel’s amusement toward Bea. She admired her audacity. It reminded her of herself as a girl before she had to pin her hair up.

Her attention returned to Jonathan. The ton would not approve of the heir to an earldom romping about with Just Bea and her saucy tongue. But nor would they approve of an earl’s daughter shoving up her sleeves and plunging her arms elbow deep into soapsuds and dirty dishwater. But she had done so, and if need be, would do so again. The need to do something to help out that poor, bedridden woman had erased all Julia’s doubts.

That was why she had never belonged in London. She belonged here, listening to the rewarding sound of Mrs. Mabry’s laughter when Julia had teased her about Bea’s colorful vocabulary. Mrs. Mabry’s pride in her daughter had matched her derision for Edmund’s bailiff.

Julia’s mood plummeted. She shaded her eyes and squinted down the road, looking for signs of Daniel.

Where was he? And what had he learned?

Some squire he was. She gnawed on her lower lip as she recalled his vow to look out for her. It had caught her off guard, for she could not remember the last time someone had offered to help her. Then again, she had never asked for help. However, Daniel’s vow didn’t concern her too much, for where was he now? Nowhere to be found.

“Now who is looking doubtful?”

As if he had heard her rebuke, there he was. He stood in a halo of sunlight, like an archangel grinning at her. More like a fallen angel. At the sight of his devilish grin, something fluttered in her chest. He had discarded his jacket, gloves, and hat, and once again rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. The sight of his naked forearms so boldly displayed had her struggling to stand.

Daniel offered his hand, and after a slight hesitation, she accepted it. Slipping her fingers into his, the heat of his skin seeped through her leather glove. His forearm was hard muscle and strong, and he pulled her up with ease. Her traitorous heart emitted another flutter.

He was so close, she could smell his masculine scent, sweat mixed with a lingering hint of sandalwood soap. A lock of hair fell over his forehead, and his eyes were as green as the meadows they had ridden past. He was her Beautiful Bedford . . . only he was not.

A clamp constricted her chest, stifling its flutters. She withdrew her hand and stepped back. “Where have you been? Where is Mr. Mabry?”

“He stayed at the fields. Did you miss me?”

Was he serious? Or teasing?

When she simply looked at him, he laughed. He nodded to Mabry’s house. “What are you doing out here? Have you been sitting here all this time? Where’s Emily?”

“Sitting out here?” she echoed. “Yes, I have just been whiling away the hour, watching the apples grow and the wind blow because I daren’t get my hands dirty or my riding habit dusty.”

She had his attention now. His eyes snapped back to her, his gaze roving over her hair, which she imagined looked like a bird’s nest with loose strands and tendrils sticking out in every which way. When she had confronted the disarray comprising Mabry’s house, she had removed her bonnet and riding jacket and rolled up her sleeves. She was well aware that her pristine riding habit was streaked with dust, dirt, and God knew what else she had collected as she and Emily had swept the place clean.

His smile vanished. “My apologies. Was it terrible? Will she be all right?”

His apology stole the wind from the sails of her irritation. “Well, Mrs. Mabry is regaining her strength. She should be on her feet in a week or two. However, with her bedridden so long, the house was in as sorry a state. It needed a thorough cleaning. Mabry had stoked the fire, so we were able to warm a kettle of water and dispense with the dishes. They don’t own many, but of the few they do, I believe Mabry used them all.” She grinned.

“You did the dishes?”

She wondered if she had dirt on her face, for he stared at her so strangely. “Well, yes, short of a maid, who else was there?”

“Who else indeed,” he murmured.

“We sorted out the clothes strewn everywhere, did a bit of dusting and sweeping. I cleaned one of the windows to get some light into the rooms, and Emily filled their cupboard with some of the loaves of bread and wedges of cheese I brought.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, I will send a maid down to collect the wicker basket of dirty clothes to have them laundered at Taunton Court. There is no other way. I intend to speak to the vicar, make arrangements for someone to check in on them regularly. We will have to assess the situation of the other tenants. I will advise the parish to put together more food supplies for others in need. But on the whole, it was nothing we could not handle.”

“Except for the laundry.”

Surprised, she looked at him, but his tone was teasing, and she relaxed. “Yes, but I have taken care of that.”

“Of course you have.”

She froze when, light as a feather, his fingers swept something from her hair.

“Just a cobweb.” He shook his hand, sending the gossamer threads sailing in the wind.

“If you find anything else in there, don’t tell me, particularly if it lives.” She shuddered.

Laughing, he leaned close to peer into her hair. He tucked a loose strand behind her ear, a warmth in his eyes. “Nothing else. You are quite safe, except for some dirt just here.” His finger brushed her cheek.

Her face flamed, and her hand shot up to scrub the dirt-streaked area.

“Now you’ve done it,” he laughed. “Look at your gloves.”

Following his gaze, she gasped. Her gloves were beyond filthy.

He crossed to the fence over which he had draped his jacket, withdrawing a handkerchief from its inside pocket. Returning, he presented it to her. “Try this.”

“Thank you.” She accepted it and stepped back as she wiped her cheek. He was too big and too close, and his teasing smile disturbed her pulse. Besides, she had an urge to brush back that errant lock of hair and press her finger to the intriguing dent in his chin. “All gone? How do I look?”

His gaze roved over her features so carefully that she squirmed. His smile was slow and easy. “Beautiful, as always.”

Her lips parted.
Beautiful
. No one had ever called her so. Emily was the classic English beauty with her fair looks, while Julia had fine eyes. She closed her mouth and tucked the compliment away to savor later. It was a weak vanity, but betrothed to Bedford, men were circumspect in their attentions to her. Few praised her outright, and none complimented her.
Until Daniel.

“I don’t suppose it ever occurred to you that you could have collected some servants to assist you with cleaning up? That you did not have to do it all yourself?”

She returned his handkerchief. “Actually, Emily did suggest that. But contrary to my social status exempting me from doing so, I am quite capable of washing a dish and pushing a broom.” She shrugged. “That family needed our help, and they will be my tenants soon, too. That makes their welfare my responsibility. I could not very well turn my back on them.”

“Of course you couldn’t. Nor would you seek assistance. What was I thinking?”

She wondered at the strange glow in his eyes and its odd effect on her. After a moment, she recovered her voice. “And the grounds? How bad is the situation?”

The glow faded and his expression darkened. He gestured to the blanket on the ground. “Why don’t we sit and I will update you.” Jonathan and Bea’s giggles carried to them, and they observed the two dangling from a low branch. “I see Bea and Jonathan have joined forces. The Irish don’t stand a chance.”

She smiled. “I fear you are right.”

“Excuse me for one second.” He winked and strode over to the tree. He spoke to Bea, and tossed something to her, which she snagged. She then scrambled up the tree and dropped two apples into Daniel’s waiting grasp. He bowed graciously, flashed his potent smile, and returned to her side.

“What was that all about?”

“A business transaction. One bob for two apples.” He grinned. “I believe she got the better of the deal. Apple?”

She stripped off her dirty gloves and lifted her hands to catch his offering.

He hesitated, a teasing gleam entering his eyes. “Maybe I should reconsider. Remember what happened to Eve when she ate the apple? She got exiled.”

“But she gained wisdom, which made her smart enough to put some clothes on.”

“And therein lies the true biblical tragedy.” Daniel sighed as he lobbed the apple to her. “If she hadn’t been tempted by Satan, we would all be naked, happy, and still frolicking in the Garden of Eden.”

“What happens when winter comes? It could get chilly.”

“That is the best part.” He sat on the blanket, then caught her bare hand and pulled her down. He leaned against the fence, and when she had settled her skirts around her and leaned back beside him, he tapped his shoulder to hers. “We would have to combine our body heat to stay warm.”

Smiling, she shifted away from him and shook her head. “I fear that would fail. Without knowledge, they would be too slow to do so, and would freeze to death. It would be the end of all mankind. Eve was wise to eat that apple.” She bit into her own.

He laughed. “Clever. I see why you were so competent managing Taunton’s estates. Nothing escapes you and you are willing to get your hands dirty. You have a keen mind for resolving problems you cannot manage on your own, as shown in your arranging the laundry to be cleaned at Taunton Court. Will you work for my company?”

More compliments to tuck away with the other. As much as they pleased her, his words reminded her why they had come, and her smile faded. “I am needed here. More than I realized.” She set her apple down. She had lost her appetite again.

Daniel appeared to sober as well. “Did Mrs. Mabry say anything to you?”

She recounted the woman’s harangue. “What did you learn from Mabry?” He filled her in on Mabry’s account of the last few years. The two accounts differed in one manner. “She blamed Edmund’s bailiffs. Refused to believe Bedford was sanctioning their stringent measures. Contrary to her husband, she believes Bedford is not as informed on matters as the late duke had been. He doesn’t . . . Edmund doesn’t visit the tenants or ride over the grounds.”

“What are your thoughts?” He had finished his apple and tossed the core onto the blanket beside them.

She gnawed on her lower lip, her emotions in conflict. She wanted to defend Edmund. But she could not.
The estate turns a profit.
Edmund’s cold and dismissive words haunted her. “I . . . I honestly do not know. But it appears that things have been neglected.”

“Yes, they have. But as you said, that is why you are needed here.” He gave her a reassuring smile.

“Yes, it is. I’ll . . . I will speak to Edmund. See what he has to say.”

He nodded. “That is a start.”

The doubt in his voice gave her pause. “Do you think he will listen?” The question escaped her before she could bite it back, but she was desperate to know his opinion.

He pursed his lips as if contemplating the matter, and then grinned as if an amusing thought had struck him. “If anyone can get Edmund to listen, it would be you. After all, you possess another talent. You are very persuasive about getting people to do your bidding.” His eyes dipped to her lips.

She blinked, but refused to rise to his bait. “Not everyone is as easily persuaded as you.”

He laughed. “I had a keen interest in what you offered.” He winked at her, and ignoring her quelling glance, he continued. “It is all about dangling the right rewards to get someone to do your bidding. So what does Edmund want?”

He still stared at her mouth, and she found her gaze dropping to his. She noticed his bottom lip was fuller than his top. She swallowed. What was his question? Her mind had gone utterly blank, like an unwritten page expectantly waiting to be filled. She dared not voice with what.