Page 21 of A Rogue to Resist
Katherine watched the tension ease from the farmers’ shoulders as they realized they would not be penalized for speaking frankly.
“In that case, my lord,” Hobbs continued, “the mill is only the most urgent of several problems. The bridge to the north fields is unsafe for heavy carts, and the drainage ditches along the eastern boundary need clearing before the autumn rains.”
Lord Greythorne listened attentively as each farmer outlined their concerns, occasionally asking clarifying questions or making notes in a small book he had produced from his pocket. Katherine found herself increasingly impressed by his grasp of practical matters and his evident respect for the tenants’ expertise.
“These are all reasonable requests,” he said when they had finished. “The mill repairs will begin immediately. Thompson, see to it that materials are ordered and workmen engaged without delay.”
“Yes, my lord.” The steward looked visibly relieved.
“As for the bridge and drainage work,” Lord Greythorne continued, “I’ll need to review the estate’s finances before committing to a timeline. But you have my word that these issues will be addressed.”
The farmers’ gratitude was palpable, though Katherine detected a lingering concern in their expressions.
“There’s something else troubling you,” she observed. “Please, speak freely.”
Hobbs twisted his cap in his hands. “It’s just... begging your pardon, my lord, but we’ve heard promises before. The late earlwould agree to repairs when pressed, but somehow the funds always seemed to evaporate before the work was done.”
Lord Greythorne’s expression darkened momentarily before settling into something more carefully controlled. “A fair concern, given your experience. I can only ask that you judge me by my actions, not my predecessor’s failures.”
His candid acknowledgment of Edmund’s shortcomings startled Katherine. There was none of the false loyalty that so often accompanied transitions of power—just a straightforward assessment of the situation and a clear commitment to improvement.
“There is the matter of funding, however,” Thompson interjected cautiously. “The estate’s liquid assets are... limited, my lord.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Katherine could feel the weight of unspoken concerns hanging in the air—the farmers’ fear that necessary repairs would again be deferred, Lord Greythorne’s barely concealed frustration at inheriting such a financial mess.
“Perhaps,” she found herself saying, “I might offer a temporary solution.”
All eyes turned to her in surprise.
“The western fields’ harvest last year was exceptionally profitable,” she continued, hardly believing what she was proposing. “I could advance funds for the mill repairs, to be repaid once the estate’s finances are on firmer footing.”
Lord Greythorne’s eyes widened slightly, the only indication of his astonishment at her offer. “That is... unexpectedly generous, Lady Katherine.”
“It’s practical, not generous,” she corrected, unwilling to give him the wrong impression. “The mill serves my tenants as well as yours. Its failure would affect everyone, including me.”
But they both knew it was more than that. Katherine could see in his expression that he understood what it cost her to offer assistance to a Halston, to voluntarily entangle her finances with the estate she had been so eager to escape.
“Nevertheless,” he said quietly, “it is an offer I appreciate and will consider carefully.”
The meeting concluded shortly thereafter, with the farmers departing in notably better spirits than they had arrived. As Thompson showed them out, Lord Greythorne turned to Katherine, his expression thoughtful.
“You continue to surprise me, Lady Katherine.”
She lifted her chin slightly. “How so, my lord?”
“You claim to have no attachment to Greythorne, yet you’re clearly beloved by its tenants and staff. You insist you had no authority here, yet you somehow managed to maintain parts of the estate despite Edmund’s neglect. And now you offer financial assistance to an estate you profess to have gladly left behind.” His head tilted slightly as he studied her. “It’s a puzzle.”
“There’s no puzzle,” Katherine replied. “The tenants and staff of Greythorne were kind to me during a difficult time. I have no desire to see them suffer for Edmund’s failings or—” she caught herself before adding “yours” — “or anyone else’s.”
Lord Greythorne’s mouth quirked in what might have been amusement. “A sentiment that does you credit. But it still leaves us with the question of the western fields’ ownership.”
Katherine sighed. After the morning’s revelations about the estate’s condition, the boundary dispute seemed simultaneously more and less important. More, because she now understood how desperately the estate needed the resources those fields represented. Less, because she had begun to see Lord Greythorne not merely as an adversary, but as someonegenuinely concerned with the welfare of Greythorne and its dependents.
“The fields are legally mine,” she said finally. “But I am not unsympathetic to the estate’s needs.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I am willing to discuss arrangements that might benefit both parties,” Katherine clarified. “Though not today. There’s much to consider, and I would prefer to do so away from...” she gestured vaguely at their surroundings, unable to articulate how the very walls of Greythorne Manor seemed to press in on her, heavy with unwelcome memories.
