Page 10 of A Rogue to Resist
“And they are yours by right,” James insisted. “The boundary markers clearly designate them as part of your dower property.”
“Legally speaking,” Rosabel interjected gently, “there is room for interpretation. Which is why this meeting is necessary in the first place.”
James frowned at his wife, but Katherine nodded in agreement. “Bel is right. I’ve studied the documents thoroughly. A determined man could make a case that the fields belong to the entailed property.”
“Which is why I’m here,” James said firmly. “To ensure that any such attempt is immediately quashed.”
Katherine suppressed a sigh. Not this again. Not another man gently pushing her from the room while the real decisions were made elsewhere. She’d spent a marriage pretending not to mind it. But she did mind. Deeply.
While she appreciated her brother’s protective instincts, she had no desire to hide behind his ducal authority. “I am perfectly capable of handling Lord Greythorne myself.”
She stared at her brother, unblinking. She had walked that land herself, overseen the harvest, listened to the tenants’ grievances. Those fields weren’t just part of the estate. They were hers. The only piece of her life she had shaped by her own hand. She would not relinquish them.
“Of course, you are,” Rosabel said soothingly. “But having James present sends a clear message that you have powerful support.”
“Precisely,” James agreed. “This new earl needs to understand from the outset that any attempt to bully or intimidate you will be met with resistance from the highest levels of society.”
Katherine moved to the window, gazing out at the quiet London street. “What do we actually know about him? Beyond the gossip, I mean.”
James and Rosabel exchanged glances.
“Not a great deal,” James admitted. “He’s been abroad for most of his adult life. America primarily, though there were reports of him in Paris and other European capitals as well.”
“Doing what, exactly?” Katherine asked.
“Business ventures, apparently,” Rosabel supplied. “Quite successful ones, if rumours are to be believed. He made his own fortune rather than relying on family connections.”
Katherine raised an eyebrow. “A self-made man who suddenly inherits a title. How very convenient for him.”
“The inheritance was hardly planned,” James pointed out. “Edmund’s death was unexpected, and Drake Halston was a distant cousin at best. No one anticipated him becoming the heir.”
“Drake Halston, the sixth Earl of Greythorne,” Katherine repeated the name thoughtfully.
It was the first time she’d spoken it aloud. “And what of his character? Beyond Lady Beauford’s assessment of his physical attributes.”
Rosabel’s lips twitched with suppressed amusement. “Reports vary. Some call him shrewd and ruthless in business. Others say he’s charming but guarded. He keeps his own counsel and has few close associates in London.”
“A man of mystery, then,” Katherine said dryly. “How tiresome.”
James smiled faintly. “Not everyone can be as transparent as I am.”
“A blessing for which we’re all grateful,” Rosabel teased her husband. “One completely straightforward Wexford is quite enough.”
Their light banter eased some of the tension in Katherine’s shoulders. Whatever this meeting might bring, she was not facing it alone.
The clock on the mantel chimed the quarter hour, sending a fresh jolt of apprehension through her. Fifteen minutes until the appointed time.
“I should review my notes once more,” she said, opening her portfolio on a small writing desk.
“Katherine,” James’s voice was gentle but firm. “You’ve prepared as thoroughly as humanly possible. You know these estates better than anyone—certainly better than a man who’s been in England less than a month.”
“Knowledge isn’t always enough,” she replied quietly, remembering how often Edmund had dismissed her insights and suggestions, despite her proven understanding of estatemanagement. “Men with power seldom appreciate being instructed by women.”
“Then he’ll learn the hard way,” James said simply. “As I did when I underestimated Rosabel’s grasp of political matters.”
Rosabel smiled at the memory. “When he proposed, I only accepted when he finally admitted I’d been right about the trade negotiations.”
“The greatest surrender of my life,” James said with surprising tenderness, “and the most rewarding.”
