Page 41 of Crash Landing
His cousins were to share in the profits, for he wanted them to have a vested interest in the business enterprises. They would become wealthy men if the Weymouth holdings remained profitable.
He had assigned Sebastian to help out Andrew, but meant to use him as a roving manager, someone reliable to help him out or Nathan whenever there was a need. Right now, the most urgent need was those warehouses.
The rain stopped by suppertime and the sun came out for the few hours remaining before nightfall. He and his cousins had done a solid day’s work and would resume tomorrow, for there remained the stud farm, the financial investments, and the London properties to discuss.
He made clear all final decisions would be his, and his cousins voiced no objections. After all, not only was he the eldest among them, but he had run the Lothmere properties for several years before his father passed, and these ducal properties for several months, even though he had only inherited the title a short while ago.
None of the cousins had his experience.
Still, Trajan wanted their opinions regarding these holdings. Even if he did not always take their advice, it was good practice for them to learn how to analyze what new businesses to acquire, if any, which of the less profitable assets to sell off, and how to respond to unexpected setbacks with efficiency.
“Lord, I’m stiff,” Andrew muttered, arching his back and groaning.
The others agreed and similarly stretched their muscles. So did Trajan, no doubt having a few more aching joints than his younger cousins.
Sitting at a desk for long hours was something he would have to get used to, because he would be inundated with reports and other matters that needed his attention on a daily basis.
Perhaps it was a good thing Florence had not leaped at the chance to marry him. Nor had she rejected him, so that was something. Heknew she held him in deep affection, for she would have refused his proposal outright if she felt there was no chance for them.
But he had also noticed the way she looked at him and never hesitated to place her hand in his, as though craving his touch.
Also, she respected his advice, even if she had no intention of following it.
Perhaps she was falling in love with him.
He had to admit, it warmed his heart.
However, he would have little time for Florence over these next few months while he mastered his role as the new duke. For someone who had spent a lifetime ignored by her family, this could be a difficult thing for her.
Did she not deserve an attentive husband? This was what he wanted to be for her.
More important, heneededto be this for her, because he did not want her feeling their marriage had been a mistake…assuming there would ever be a marriage.
He still did not understand why he felt so comfortable with the notion of Florence as his wife. But both his mind and his heart were telling him this was right, so who was he to disagree?
“I’m famished,” Sebastian remarked.
Nathan nodded. “Me too. What’s for supper? Any idea, Trajan?”
Trajan shrugged. “No, but Mrs. Palmer is a good cook. Whatever it is will be delicious. I think Florence planned the menu.”
“Uh oh,” Andrew teased. “Is that good or bad?”
Trajan chuckled. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
They marched out of the study and joined the ladies, who were now in the formal parlor. Hermia was at the small writing desk with quill pen in hand, having just finished a letter. He wondered whether she was reporting to Florence’s parents or merely writing to a friend.
Florence was seated on the settee reading a book, but she set it aside and rose with a smile to greet him as he strode in.
“I’m sorry we took so long,” he said. “There’s still a lot for me to learn in managing the Weymouth properties, in addition to bringing my cousins into their roles. How did you spend your day?”
“Aunt Hermia and I managed to keep busy,” she assured him. She was still smiling, which meant she was not at all put out by having to manage on her own on this rather foul day. “While my aunt worked on her embroidery, I asked Mrs. Albright to take me on a tour of the house, ending with the kitchen. I offered some suggestions for tonight’s meal. I hope you don’t mind.”
He grinned and gave her cheek a light caress, for he was pleased she had taken an interest in the running of Gull Hall. “As long as it is edible, we’ll have no complaints.”
She blushed. “I think you will like it.”
“Are you set for tomorrow’s tea?” he asked.
