Chapter Ten #2
“As you wish, my lord,” Mr. Winters conceded. “Then I would suggest preparing for a journey to London as soon as practical. The Season will be at its height, and with your title and fortune, you should have no shortage of potential brides to choose from.”
“A cattle market by any other name,” Drake muttered, then sighed heavily. “Leave the documents with me, Winters. I need time to consider my options.”
Realizing the meeting was concluding, Katherine hastily moved away from the door, her heart racing with the fear of discovery. She managed only a few steps before the study door opened, and Mr. Winters emerged, his expression preoccupied.
He started at the sight of her. “Lady Katherine! I wasn’t aware you were at the manor today.”
Katherine forced a composure she did not feel.
“I’ve only just arrived,” she lied smoothly. “I was bringing some documents for Lord Greythorne regarding the western fields’ planting schedule.”
“I see.” The solicitor looked momentarily disconcerted, perhaps wondering how much she might have overheard. “His lordship is in the study, though I should warn you he’s in rather a contemplative mood.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Katherine replied. “Perhaps I should leave the documents with you instead?”
“No need for that.” Drake’s voice came from the study doorway. “I’m perfectly capable of receiving visitors, Winters, regardless of my mood.”
Katherine turned to find him watching her with an intensity that made her wonder if he somehow knew she had been listening. His expression was carefully neutral, but there was a tension in his bearing that hadn’t been present during their recent interactions.
“I’ll take my leave then, my lord,” Mr. Winters said with a bow.
“Lady Katherine.” With a nod to her, he departed down the corridor, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor.
For a moment, Katherine and Drake simply looked at each other, an awkward silence stretching between them.
“You’ve brought documents?” Drake prompted finally, gesturing toward the leather portfolio she carried.
“Yes,” Katherine said, gathering her composure. “The planting schedules for the western fields. I thought they might help you understand the crop rotation system we’ve implemented.”
He nodded, stepping back to allow her entry to the study. “An olive branch after our market disagreement?”
“A practical contribution to our mutual goal of improving Greythorne’s productivity,” Katherine corrected, though there was truth in his assessment.
She had indeed chosen to bring the documents personally rather than sending them with a servant, a small gesture to further their agreeable communication.
The study was warm, sunlight streaming through tall windows that overlooked the formal gardens. A fire burned in the grate despite the mild spring day, and several candles were lit on the massive oak desk where multiple stacks of papers were arranged with careful precision.
Drake closed the door behind them, a gesture that suddenly made Katherine acutely aware of their privacy.
In the six weeks since he had arrived at Greythorne, their working relationship had grown increasingly informal, but being alone together in his private study felt different from their usual collaboration in fields and tenant cottages.
“Would you care for tea?” he offered, moving toward a bellpull near the fireplace.
“No, thank you,” Katherine replied. “I won’t stay long. I merely wanted to ensure you had this information before the spring planting begins in earnest.”
Drake nodded, abandoning the bellpull to return to his desk. “Of course. Always efficient, Lady Katherine.”
There was something in his tone—not quite mockery, but a certain irony—that made her glance at him sharply. Had he somehow guessed she’d overheard his conversation with Mr. Winters? The thought sent a flutter of alarm through her.
“Efficiency has its place,” she replied carefully, placing the portfolio on his desk. “Particularly in matters of estate management.”
“And in matters of marriage?” The question was casual, but his eyes were intent on her face as he asked it.
Katherine felt her heart skip. He knew. Somehow, he knew she had been listening.
“I wouldn’t know,” she said, striving for an equally casual tone. “My own marriage was arranged with efficiency in mind, but I can hardly call the results successful.”
Drake’s expression softened slightly.
“No,” he agreed. “I don’t imagine you would.”
Silence fell between them again, charged with unspoken acknowledgments. Katherine should leave now, make her excuses and retreat to Willow Park where she could process what she had learned and the unsettling emotions it had stirred.
Instead, she found herself asking, “Is everything all right, Lord Greythorne? You seem... preoccupied today.”
It was an opening, an invitation for him to confide in her if he chose. They both knew it.
Drake studied her for a long moment, as if weighing how much to reveal. When he spoke, his voice carried a note of frustration she’d rarely heard from him.
“It seems our working arrangement has become a subject of... speculation,” he said finally. “Apparently, there are those who find our collaboration inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate?” Katherine asked, though her cheeks warmed as she recalled what she’d overheard.
“So I’ve been informed,” Drake replied, his jaw tightening. “It appears that a widow and a bachelor working closely together on estate matters is cause for gossip, regardless of the practical benefits of such an arrangement.”
Something in his tone—a genuine distaste for the cold practicality of it—touched Katherine unexpectedly.
Before she could express her sympathy, Drake dragged his hand through his hair and stifled an oath. “And now Winters suggests that all this gossip could interfere with my search for a bride, potentially handing Greythorne to Captain Halston on a silver platter.”
“You could refuse to wed,” she suggested. “Let Greythorne go. You have your own fortune, your own enterprises in America.”
Drake turned fully toward her, surprise evident in his expression. “You would suggest I abandon Greythorne? After all the plans we’ve discussed, the repairs underway, the promises made to tenants?”
“I merely point out that you have options,” Katherine clarified. “Unlike most men in your position. You aren’t dependent on Greythorne for your livelihood or status.”
He considered this, his watchful gaze thoughtful. “True. Yet in the short time I’ve been here, I’ve developed a sense of... responsibility toward this place. To walk away now would feel like abandoning not just land and buildings, but people who are beginning to trust me.”
The admission revealed more about Drake Halston than perhaps he intended.
Katherine had assumed his interest in Greythorne was primarily financial—a valuable property to add to his portfolio of investments. But his evident concern for the estate’s people suggested something deeper, a developing connection to Greythorne that went beyond its monetary value.
“Then you will go to London,” she said, not quite a question. “To find a suitable bride.”
Drake grimaced slightly. “So it would seem. Though the prospect of parading through ballrooms in search of a wife who won’t object to being chosen primarily for her ability to satisfy an entail is hardly appealing.”
“Most young ladies would consider an earl with substantial personal fortune quite a catch,” Katherine pointed out, surprised by how much the notion of Drake courting in London discomfited her. “Regardless of the circumstances.”
“Yes, well, ‘most young ladies’ have been raised to view marriage as their primary ambition,” Drake replied dryly. “Their expectations are correspondingly modest.”
Katherine couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her. “You sound positively cynical, Lord Greythorne.”
“Drake,” he corrected automatically. “And perhaps I am. But I’ve built my life on honest exchanges where both parties understand exactly what they’re agreeing to and why.
The marriage market strikes me as the opposite—all illusion and strategic manoeuvring, with the truth revealed only after the contracts are signed. ”
It was a surprisingly astute observation, one that aligned with Katherine’s own experience.
“Then perhaps you should be equally honest in your search,” she suggested. “Make your situation and expectations clear from the outset. There may be young women who would appreciate such directness, even if it’s unconventional.”
Drake looked at her with renewed interest. “A practical suggestion, Katherine. Though Society might consider such candour shocking.”
“Society thrives on shock,” she replied with a shrug. “At least you would attract women who value honesty over pretence.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “A rare quality, in my experience.”
“Rarer in some circles than others,” Katherine agreed. “But not impossible to find, if one looks beyond the usual candidates.”
Drake’s smile broadened into something more genuine. “Are you suggesting I search for a bride among the bluestockings and spinsters rather than the debutantes?”
“I’m suggesting you consider what qualities would make for a tolerable lifelong companion, beyond merely satisfying the entail’s requirements,” Katherine clarified, ignoring the flutter in her stomach at his smile. “Youth and beauty fade. Character and intelligence endure.”
Drake studied her with an intensity that made her suddenly self-conscious. “Wise counsel, Katherine. And unexpected, given your own experience of arranged marriage.”
“Perhaps because of it,” she replied quietly. “Had I known Edmund’s true nature before our marriage, I would never have consented, regardless of the advantages or my family’s wishes.”
Something shifted in Drake’s expression—a softening, a glimmer of genuine concern. “Was it truly so terrible?”