Page 33 of The Duke's Spinster Bride
He pulled open one of his desk drawers and saw several files within. Each was labelled contracts – signed. He flicked through them absently, wondering at how she had managed to be so thorough in such a short time.
“It is rather impressive to see what you can accomplish when you set your mind to it.” He replaced the file in the drawer, noticing the way Andrea leaned forward as though to check he had done it right. “Do not worry, dear Duchess. I am perfectly capable of maintaining an organisational system.”
“If you say so.” She folded her arms across her chest.
He tilted his head towards her. “You sound sceptical.”
“I am. I have seen your accounts. It is practically criminal how you have mismanaged your estate.” She shook her head. “Well not criminal, but a shame. Your carefree attitude may work on tavern beauties but it is a ridiculous way to run a duchy.”
He stiffened slightly, but kept his mouth shut. “I have not been carefree with my running of the estate.”
She snorted. “Perhaps not, but you have so much wasted potential.”
“Such as?” he leaned back, watching her face, there was something odd in her expression that he could not quite place.
It was not hostility, not fear. Or at least not quite. He sensed she was looking for a fight, but that was not everything. He remained silent, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Andrea strode to the desk, flung open the drawer and pulled several folders onto the surface. “You really ought to rotate the crops on the McGregor’s farm. The Danver sheep are an old breed, you would do better to get in some others for they produce a more sought after wool.”
Frederick watched her, frowning as he listened to her explain. “It seems you did more than just organise my files.”
“I needed to know what was in them if I was to organise them properly.” She replied.
“Of course.” Frederick inclined his head, his lips pursed as he watched her study the paper before her.
Andrea’s brow was furrowed, a lock of hair falling in front of her face as she read through the documents in front of her. Frederick almost reached to tuck it behind her ear. He swallowed and hastily clasped his hands behind his back. He leaned forwards, the smell of her perfume filling the space between them.
Forcing himself to focus, he placed a finger on one line of the paper, reaching across Andrea to do so. “I have been trying to get the Danver’s to change their livestock for half a decade, but I find most Lords seem reluctant to part with their own sheep.”
She nodded, seemingly unaware of their proximity. “Marquess Brentwell has hit a spot of financial difficulty, he would be a good person to contact about it.”
“And how do you know that?”Is there anything she does not know?Frederick took a step back, he needed to think clearly and the smell of his wife’s perfume did not lend itself to that.
He perched on the end of the desk, angling himself so he could still see what she was looking at but keep his distance from her.
“His wife came to me for a loan a few weeks ago.” She scratched the bridge of her nose, her eyes still scanning the folders. “If you raised the rents on some of the tenant farmers, that would pay for improvements to the roads and cottages.”
“They would be more amenable to the raise if they could see how it would directly benefit them.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Though I would need to make sure the rent was not raised too high, they have been good tenants and I would hate to lose them.”
“With some modern farming techniques, you could greatly increase the yield of your lands, which would help them meet the increased costs.” Andrea nodded.
His eyes widened and he leaned forwards, ideas tumbling to the forefront of his mind. “It would mean we could apply to the bank for a loan and fix the old mill.”
“The plans are in the bottom left drawer.” Andrea gestured to it while she continued to read the papers in front of her.
Frederick reached over and pulled the plans from the drawer, his own excitement getting the better of him. “We might even be able to revitalise the orchards and the cider press. Yes… I think this could really work.”
“You would not even need a loan if you-” Andrea cut herself off sharply, looking up at him.
Frederick frowned at her. “Go on.”
“What are you doing?” Her eyes narrowed at him, and she straightened.
“What do you mean?” He could see an almost expectant look on her face, a tension in her jaw.
She had a hand on the papers, her lips pursed and jaw tense. “I mean, you are not offended?”
“Am I supposed to be?” He furrowed his brow, a half-smile tugging at his mouth.
