Page 26 of The Duke's Lesson in Love

Gill pressed his lips together. The movement was subtle, but Sadie saw the disappointment. Perhaps in time his son would see him as more than the Duke of Montdale.

“Here.” Gill pressed the reins into Edwin’s hand. “There is nothing to it, I promise.”

Edwin sat up straighter. “What do I do?”

“You are doing wonderful. Keep the reins loose. Yes, like that,” Gill praised. “By applying pressure on the reins, Tucker will know which way you’d like to go.”

Lord Gilleasbuig removed his hands from atop Edwin’s, leaving the child to drive on his own.

“Tucker is nice,” Edwin said, focusing on the narrow path.

“He is even nicer to boys who carry sugar squares.”

She was proud to see Edwin take the new responsibility with squared shoulders. At the orphanage, most of the attention either went to the babies or the older children preparing to apprentice for their future trade. Edwin was too curious a child to be left to his own devices for extended periods of time.

It helped that Lord Gilleasbuig was patient as he taught Edwin and he genuinely seemed excited to do so. She also noticed that when he relinquished the reins, his left arm hugged across the boy’s middle to keep him anchored. Those weren’t the actions of a man who did not want his son.

“Are you all right, Miss Fields?”

Sadie swallowed. “Mary says you are visiting the Porters?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Mr. Porter runs my workshop and was using some of the tools for small projects around his home before it was set on fire. I had Colin replace them while we were in London.”

“Would it not be cheaper to have the tools made here?”

“Yes, but that would take time.” His voice hardened enough to make her pause. “I would like to have his home rebuilt without delay.”

“Is that a water mill?” She thought he had his own well, but a water mill made the estate self-sufficient.

“There is a lake behind the mill that connects with the river Tweed.” His arm brushed the side of her breasts when he pointed even further across his property, and she suppressed a moan of surprise as the throbbing along her skin doubled. “The water supplies not only the estate and homes, but the two fields and livestock.”

From the distance, she made out large blotches of brown. “Wheat?” she guessed, hoping the single word didn’t sound breathless.

“Oats.”

“And the other?” Three words this time, and to her surprise, they were not a jumbled slur of nonsense.

“Turnips,” he said.

Her brows knitted. She expected peas or beans or even another grain.

“On one of my parents’ travels, my father noted in his journal about the use of turnip and clover to fertilize the soil, but he never implemented it.”

“But you did.”

“When I took over, the soil needed improving. I started a rotation system similar to the farmers in Flanders. Slowly soil fertility improved.”

Why wouldn’t his father have looked to improve the fields?

“There is little money in turnips,” he said, seeing her frown. “My parents cared very much about what filled their coffers.” The hard note returned to his voice. “Yet, they squandered those funds on balls and fashion.” He slowed the buggy to a stop.

As they reached the Porters’ burned cottage, she gasped at the destruction.

Gill helped Edwin down and the boy ran towards the other child, then stopped. He looked at his father, then to Sadie. “May I go play?”

“Stay close.” She nodded.

Gill introduced her to the couple. Mrs. Porter was a quiet sort, but friendly as they trailed close behind the men walking around the property.

---