Page 45 of A Duke Changes Everything
“The threshing barn and granary first?” she asked blithely, as if their brief touch didn’t affect her at all.
“Lead the way, Miss Thorne.” Nick was almost grateful one of them could still manage to be sensible.
“As you see,” she said as they entered a long, high-ceilinged barnlike structure, “it’s used for both processing and storage.”
“Most impressive.” Nick’s gaze widened as he took in the scene. He’d once visited one of the cotton mills he’d invested in and the Wilcox barn had the same air of productivity and organized efficiency.
Mina waved to two young gentlemen working machines, and they tipped their hats as if seeing his steward wander around the farm didn’t surprise them in the least.
“This used to be a horse gin.” She pointed to a series of pulleys and flywheels with a wide shaft attached. Inside lay grain that had been threshed and ground. A spout of steam nearby indicated why horses were no longer required. “As you can see, it’s been adapted to run on steam power.”
Another machine arranged along the wall of the barn took canvas sacks strung on hooks attached to a conveyer belt down to where one of the farmworkers tipped a shoot of grain to fill each bag. The grain itself was carried by another long belt above. All of it powered by steaming boilers.
“How much does this single farm produce?” Nick had no great knowledge of farms, but the speed with which they were filling bags and threshing wheat seemed far quicker than what a few men and horses could do.
“Enough to provide for Enderley’s livestock year-round and take feed to markets throughout the county. They’re among the best tenants on the estate.”
She smiled at him so proudly that Nick felt an answering smile tugging the corners of his mouth.
“And nothing’s broken or in need of repair,” she added with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“What a refreshing change.”
“Are you ready to see more? I’d like to show you the apiary next.” She was already striding toward the entrance of the barn, as if she knew full well he was prepared to follow her all day.
“Be on the lookout, Miss Thorne. One of the cottage hive lids is damaged.” The young farmhand made the admission almost sheepishly, as if loath to contradict her declaration that everything on the farm was in good order. “I mean to fix it right away.”
“Thank you, Billy. We’ll be cautious.”
“Hive?” Nick asked as they walked side by side. “As in bees?”
Mina didn’t answer but suddenly stopped short and stuck out an arm to keep him from going any further. Her hand landed on his stomach. Even through his layers of shirt and waistcoat, he could feel the warmth of her skin.
“We should approach slowly, just to be sure. If the damage has disturbed the cottage hives, the workers may be restless.”
Nick heard the insects first, a steady rustling hum that carried on the breeze. He’d never much liked bees, but when she started forward, he followed close behind.
“Take care, Mina.”
“It’s not as bad as I imagined,” she said on a relieved sigh. “Let’s have a closer look.”
The woman was either fearless or foolish or a bit of both. She strode straight toward several tall multi-story wooden structures and approached one capped by a broken wooden lid.
When she bent to examine the damage, Nick stepped closer and laid a hand on her arm.
“You are aware they sting, aren’t you?”
“They’re busy right now,” she told him, reaching down to take his hand and guide him closer. “See for yourself.”
Nick took one wary step forward and winced when Mina gingerly removed the broken lid to look inside at the hive.
“When the temperature dips, they work harder to keep warm.”
Nick was amazed to find she was right. The little creatures were assembled tightly on honeycomb-lined frames and took little notice of their curious inspection. Only two flew out when the lid came off.
“This farm supplies some of the best honey in Sussex.” She swept her finger along the edge of the frame and held it out for his inspection. “See how dark it is? Something about the flowers they grow makes for a richer flavor.”
Nick looked at the dark drop of honey on her skin and his mouth watered. Not because he was longing for a taste of the county’s finest sweetener, but because he longed to take her finger into his mouth.
