Page 34 of The Duke of Lies
Kit wished he could accompany them into the town and look at a few of the spinning mills. While there were individual weavers on the estate, there were no spinning mills. He was planning to change that.
They all exited the castle into the upper courtyard, and Simon kissed his wife’s cheek as she and Verity prepared to leave. Kit felt a moment’s awkwardness, as if there were an expectation that he should do the same. He wouldn’t, of course, but he found himself wondering what that would feel like. A jolt of heat raced through him, and he decided he should stop wondering.
“Have a good trip,” Thomas said with a smile as they took themselves off, leaving the trio of men in the courtyard. He turned to Kit. “Where shall I begin?”
“Romsey and I nearly finished the audit. We have just a few more tenants to speak with today.” Kit glanced up at the darkening sky. “In the rain, it would seem.”
“You could postpone,” Thomas said.
Kit started toward the upper gate, and the other two men followed. “I’d just as soon get it finished. We’re very close. I would invite you to come along, but I’d prefer you review the latest accounting. I left it on your desk before breakfast.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. I’ll read it immediately.”
Kit nodded. “We can discuss it later. Until then.” He pulled his hat more firmly onto his head and led Simon toward the stable yard.
Once they were on their horses, it began to drizzle. Kit was glad the tenants they had left to visit were relatively close.
“You’re certain of your new steward?” Simon asked as they rode.
“I know his grandfather was well respected, and I expect he’ll do a fair job. Bleven had nothing but high praise for him and was sorry to lose him.”
Simon grimaced. “Was that awkward?”
“Not particularly. Bleven understood that this was an improvement for Entwhistle and didn’t begrudge him the advancement.”
They were quiet a moment, but Kit had the sense Simon wanted to say something else. Kit looked over at him. “Last night at dinner, you said you were in the process of searching for a new steward as yours wants to retire. Are you thinking to poach mine?”
“God, no,” Simon said vehemently. “I’m not that uncouth, never mind that horrid nickname people call me.”
Kit had no idea what he was talking about. “What’s that?”
“Of course you wouldn’t know. How pleasant. Some gentlemen in the ton are given descriptive nicknames.”
“Descriptive how?”
“They’re meant to describe their personality or their notoriety. I’ve been called the Duke of Ruin since my wife died. It’s a rather long and lurid story, but suffice it to say that I’d earned that nickname until recently. Until I married Diana. My best friend is the Duke of Ice. He’s a bit, er, cold. Or he was until he married the love of his life.”
“I’m sensing a theme here—wives fix everything?”
Simon shouted with laughter. “In our cases, yes.”
Kit instantly thought of Verity, though she wasn’t really his wife. If given the chance, would she be able to fix his woes? And what would those be? He wasn’t in need of fixing as far as he could tell. He was only in need of money and a ship.
Nothing was that simple anymore, however, and he knew it. The moment he’d assumed the mantle of duke, he’d taken on responsibilities he’d be loath to walk away from. The estate. The tenants. Beau. His chest tightened. Verity.
“Back to your question,” Simon said. “I’m not poaching Entwhistle. On the contrary, I wanted to know if he was up to the task or if there was some other reason he’d wanted this position.”
Kit frowned. “What does that mean?”
“I, ah, perhaps I shouldn’t say anything. Forgive me.” Simon increased his speed, but Kit easily came abreast of him again.
“Say what you were going to say.”
“Entwhistle looks at your wife in a certain way.”
“What way is that?” Kit wasn’t obtuse; he wanted his suspicions confirmed.
“A way that I wouldn’t allow him to look at Diana,” Simon said wryly.
