Page 23 of Foes, Friends and Lovers
“Excellent!” Vernon rubbed his hands together and glanced at Terry. “Well, m’lad, we’d better get on with finishing this commission so we can start on our latest venture.”
With smiles and waves to Terry, Gregory and Caitlin walked on.
He noticed she was almost skipping. Then, as if she couldn’t suppress her delight for a second longer, she declared, “That was an absolutely inspired idea! I hadn’t thought of the implications of you becoming the new owner. You must have myriad connections that Vernon—and several of the others as well—might benefit from.”
He considered that and felt moved to point out, “The ladies I know have exacting standards.”
Although prim, the grin she shot him was brimful of confidence. “I can assure you the quality of works produced at the Hall is high enough to meet and surpass anyone’s standards, no matter how high.”
The last words were delivered with something approaching insouciant challenge, and he found himself grinning back. “I, for one, will be eternally grateful should that prove to be so. The notion of never being at a loss for a gift for birthdays and Christmases is beyond appealing.”
She laughed—and the sound rippled over his senses, leaving them purring.
Ruthlessly, he shoved his wolfish inclinations as deep as he could and fixed his gaze ahead. After a moment, he managed to refocus his wits. “Where are you taking me now?”
“The livestock pens. Sadly, I doubt any of your ladies would appreciate a gift from Joshua’s domain.”
He smiled and didn’t contradict her, although he could think of several ladies of his acquaintance—his sister and sister-in-law and even some of his cousins—who might be tickled to receive one of Joshua’s prize goats.
From the stable, the rear drive rolled away in a northwesterly direction, with the carriage workshop, the forge, and the glassblowing workshop on Gregory and Caitlin’s left and the two large barns, staggered one behind the other, on the right. Beyond those, the drive straightened to run northward, along the east boundary of a long line of livestock pens.
Seeing him eyeing the pair of barns, Caitlin asked, “I take it those weren’t here the last time you came this way?”
He shook his head. “Which business uses them?”
“They’re the carpentry workshops. I understand that originally, it was just the front barn, but the business grew rapidly and soon needed the second barn as well.”
Remembering that the carpentry workshop was on her list to visit after the livestock pens, he shifted his gaze to Joshua’s domain.
They reached the first pen, which proved to hold six nanny goats with their kids. Joshua and another older man—another of the crew whom Gregory recognized—were in the pen, examining several kids while the mothers, tied to the rail, looked on suspiciously.
Joshua saw them, smiled, and left what he was doing to join them by the railing fence. “Come to see our beauties, have you?”
Smiling, Gregory admitted, “They appear to be in prime condition.” Every animal looked to be in the peak of health.
Joshua waved at the old man, busy releasing the tied nannies, but Gregory preempted the introduction. “Wallace, isn’t it?” Gregory smiled as the old man nodded, looking thoroughly pleased to have been remembered. “You used to be called Old Wallace, back then.”
“Aye.” The old man nodded. “And I’m Old Wallace still, even though Young Wallace—m’son—moved off to Birmingham.”
“You and your wife still live in the cottage up that way?” Gregory nodded along the rear drive.
“We do. This is our place. We always knew we’d grow old here, and so we are.”
It was a simple statement of loyalty to place that Gregory often heard on his family’s estate. He nodded amiably. “It’s a good thing, then, that you and the others have the goats and pigs to keep you occupied.”
Old Wallace cackled. “Don’t forget the chickens. Silly things take more time than the rest.”
“That’s true enough.” Joshua let himself out of the pen and joined Gregory and Caitlin. “Let me show you around.”
With a wave to Old Wallace, Gregory fell in beside Joshua, who proceeded to give him a tour of the livestock pens. Along the way, Joshua introduced his younger helper, Hendricks, a countryman in his late thirties who clearly loved raising animals as much as Joshua did.
As they walked on, leaving the pens containing the three different goat breeds Joshua raised, he volunteered, “I’ve been working with the weavers, Margaret and Monica. Have you met them yet?”
Gregory admitted he hadn’t.
“Well, they’re exceedingly good at their craft and are experimenting on using the hair from our longhairs”—with a tip of his head, Joshua indicated the last of the goat pens—“which is very fine, to make a softer, finer yarn. Still a bit of an experiment, but it’s showing promise.”
“So”—Gregory glanced back as they left the goats behind—“you raise one breed for meat, another for milk, and one for their hair?”
