Page 44 of Defending the Duke (The St. Clairs 4)

“Please, take mine,” Woodward said and came from behind the desk, seating himself in the chair in front of the desk.

Anthony went and took Woodward’s place. It felt like home. Many years ago, before he’d been exiled to Aunt Constance’s country house, he’d come and visited the estate’s manager regularly. The man, whose name escaped him, had explained things to Anthony and let him sit in this very chair. He’d felt important and special, knowing it was his brother who was have Linwood—but that he would know things about the place that Theodore never would.

Who knew over two decades later he would be the duke?

“I’d like you to give me a general accounting of the estate,” he began. “I know you sent letters to me but start from the beginning. Take as long as you wish. We can examine the ledgers later.”

Woodward started to speak and then nodded. Anthony decided the man didn’t know where to begin, being overwhelmed in the presence of the new duke.

“Tell me about the number of tenants at Linwood,” he suggested. “Those who have been here the longest. What crops are grown and the approximate yields of the past ten years. I’m sure that will lead to other questions I may have.”

For the next two hours, Woodward spoke. The man was knowledgeable and obviously very good at his job. He referred to no notes, simply speaking from the heart. Anthony let him talk and when he seemed exhausted, the duke let him pause. At that point, Anthony began discussing what he would like to do to improve the estate, based upon what he had seen during his early morning ride. The additions he had in mind. An unused section that he believed would be useful for storage and even additional farms. As he laid out future plans, Woodward joined in eagerly. The two men talked for several hours. By the end of their discussions, Anthony was eager to get out on the estate once more to see some spots and examine them in more detail, as well as talk with his tenants.

“I’ll leave you to get started,” he said. “I’ll ride the estate again in the morning and we’ll speak after that.”

“Very good, Your Grace.”

“And Woodward. One more thing. My wife... is a very curious woman. If she asks about the past—my time here at Linwood—be so good as to tell her you don’t really remember much. That you were merely being kind when you met her. That I hadn’t truly made an impression on you when I was a child.”

The manager nodded slowly. “Yes, Your Grace. I truly don’t recall much. Only that you were a bit rambunctious and then you went off to school. No one was very clear why you never returned.” He looked away and added, “Your father... never mentioned you again.”

“I see.”

“Your Grace, Her Grace has already come for a few ledgers early this morning. I gave them to her. I hope that was all right.”

Anthony didn’t show his surprise. “It’s not a problem, Woodward.”

It was, though. He’d specifically told her not to engage with them. Every servant in line had heard him suggest to her yesterday that her role was in running the household, not investigating the estate. Naturally, Laurel had ignored his directions. He remembered at school how stubborn both Jeremy and Luke St. Clair had been. Though she hadn’t been raised in their household, Laurel was proving to be the most determined St. Clair of all. One kiss and his plans to marry an unassuming wallflower had flown out the window.

He left the office, his stomach rumbling. As he passed the grandfather clock in the entryway, he heard it chime four o’clock. He hadn’t realized it was so late.

Guilt filled him having left her alone all day. Once again, he’d left things poorly with this new wife when he’d walked away from her this morning. She’d desperately wanted to sit in on his meeting with Woodward. He hadn’t wanted her present merely because she wanted to be there so badly. Anthony told himself she would have to learn that she couldn’t get her way every time. She’d already obtained the ledgers behind his back. He would let that pass. Right now, though, he owed his bride a little attention, having abandoned her for most of her first day of being married and coming to a strange place. They could take tea together and he would share some of the improvements he wished to make at Linwood. He’d even be willing to listen to any opinions she might have regarding this. With Laurel, he was certain there would be opinions aplenty.

He went to the drawing room and rang the bell. A maid appeared. He asked for tea to be brought and for his wife to be found so that she could join him.

The tea arrived ten minutes later, a maid pushing the cart. Mrs. Wallingford accompanied her.

“Her Grace isn’t here, Your Grace,” the housekeeper told him. “While you were meeting with Mr. Woodward, she decided to ride out and meet some of the tenants.”

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