Page 64 of The Make-Believe Marriage
“Probably, although their leader appeared to have a good dose of sense. His son was a fool, however. What do you have in mind?”
“I’m thinking the Armstrongs can develop an active woolen trade with them. There’s no finer quality wool around and people will pay a higher price for these goods. Few farmers in England or Scotland are likely to have these sheep since Spain is very protective of its merino breed and will hang anyone caught trying to transport them out of the country. The only way they can be acquired is to be smuggled out. They are not quite as rare as the silkworms in China that spun the purest silk. That secret was guarded successfully for centuries before European traders figured it out.”
She took a sip of her tea and continued. “As for these merino sheep, their sheared wool can be spun into spools and sold to any of the weavers in Moffat. These weavers can turn them into shawls, gowns, stockings, waistcoats, and the like, and sell their goods at a considerable profit in which the Armstrongs might share. But I think purchasing just ten merino sheep ought to do it. Of course, one of them must be a virile ram for obvious reasons.”
Octavian chuckled. “Syd, you are blushing.”
“I’m sure I am not,” she muttered as her blush deepened, staining her cheeks an inescapably bright pink. “I am speaking of farm animals of the male persuasion, not discussing you. I’m sure you are virile, but you are not a ram.”
“No, I am a big ox.”
She sighed. “I only call you that when you irritate me, as you are doing now. I suppose that is not very nice of me. I’m sorry. I won’t do that again. You’ve been wonderful to me. If anything, I am the big ox.”
He placed his hand over hers. “Syd, you will never be mistaken for that. A swan, perhaps. Or a golden dove. Do not worry about hurting me. I always want you to tell me what is on your mind and how you are feeling. My hide is quite thick, and I do not care what you call me. Tell me more about your thoughts on the Armstrong sheep.”
She set down her fork and sighed. “I thought to acquire ten of another local Highland breed for eating, if they are that hard pressed to survive. But I think all these sheep should be kept alive and bred for their wool. While you are off working, I can visit the farmer and ask what price for his sheep. Do you have any farms, Octavian?”
“As part of my holdings?” He found himself grinning once more as he watched the ideas spin in Syd’s head. “No, but Ambrose does. As Duke of Huntsford, he owns farms, country manors, a townhouse in London, and a dozen other land holdings, all of them as part of his entailment. Are you thinking to acquire sheep for us? I would not mind purchasing a dozen for Ambrose. He’s done a lot for me and Julius as we were growing up and even now. We are all grown men but still live under his roof. True, Julius and I are rarely there, but we’ve always considered Ambrose’s townhouse our home as well. He has always made us feel welcomed, even now that he is married.”
“I wish I had been raised in a family like yours,” she muttered, but did not dwell on her past. Instead, she continued to chatter about the possibility of his turning to farming and raising sheep.
“Me? Become a gentleman farmer?” He laughed and shook his head. “Oh, Syd. I don’t know. This would require mypurchasing a farm, something I would only do if I had a wife in truth and we were preparing to set down roots and raise a family,” he said gently, not wishing to start on that sensitive topic.
The light faded from her eyes. “Oh, I see your point. Why bother to build up something that will come tumbling down because it is a sham? Isn’t that right?”
“All I am saying is, things can change between us. For the better, I hope. But I was speaking about the practicality of transporting sheep to London. Won’t Ambrose and Adela be surprised to find a dozen bleating creatures tearing up their townhouse garden? As it is, we’ll have to make arrangements to get the first flock to the Armstrongs.”
Syd laughed. “I think we can drop the second flock, should we purchase any for Ambrose and Adela, off at one of Ambrose’s farms before we return to London.”
“We’ll still have to arrange for them to be transported. Our carriage, as spacious as it is, will not fit us and a single sheep, must less an entire flock. But get all the information you can from the farmer tomorrow, negotiate terms you think are fair, and let me know what he says.”
The idea seemed to please her. “You would trust me to do the negotiation?”
He nodded. “Syd, you are one of the smartest, most resourceful people I know.”
She blushed. “Thank you, Octavian. I’ll see what terms he proposes and then report back to you. I’ve never shopped for sheep before and don’t want to make a misstep and overpay. It is your funds I would be spending, so you should have the final say. Seems I’ve already followed in my father’s footsteps and been quick to spare no expense atyourcost.”
He placed a hand over hers again. “You are not your father, Syd. I will remind you of this as often as you need to hear it.”
“But–”
“You are not your father,” he repeated yet again. “He would never have considered keeping a promise to the Armstrongs or thought about acquiring sheep for himself.”
“And yet, you have agreed to help him.”
“For you, Syd. You are my wife now. I would do anything for you. If he is lying injured on an isolated stretch of road, which I sincerely doubt…but if he is, then I would not forgive myself for doing nothing and allowing him to die. I know sending others to search in place of us is not what you had in mind, but they know the terrain better and will be more effective. I suppose I have not handled it perfectly, but–”
“Don’t say that, Octavian. You have done so much.”
“While we are married, I hope you know that you can come to me for anything you need. This is what it means to be husband and wife. Trust, support, sharing.”
“Octavian, stop,” she said in a ragged whisper. “You are overwhelming me. This is so different from my life growing up. There was no trust in my family. My parents did not support each other or me. No one shared. They just took.”
“And you are deathly afraid to be like them in our marriage.” He said it as a fact, not asking it in the form of a question. He knew the answer already. Syd was fearless about many things, but one fear she had yet to overcome was that of becoming as vain and vapid as her parents.
She looked down at her plate and nodded. “I dread it.”
“Syd, you won’t be like them. You care too much about people and always go out of your way to support your friends. Your outlook on life is completely different from that of your father or your mother. When have you ever indulged yourself at the cost of others? I’ll answer that question for you…never.”
