Page 22 of A Rogue to Resist
To her surprise, he nodded understanding. “Of course. You’ve already shown more flexibility than I had any right to expect, given our brief acquaintance.”
As they prepared to depart, Katherine found herself lingering in the entrance hall, her gaze drawn to a portrait of Edmund that hung above the grand staircase. His pale, aristocratic features stared coldly down at her, a reminder of all she had endured and escaped.
“He doesn’t seem like a man who inspired much affection,” Lord Greythorne observed, following her gaze.
“No,” Katherine agreed softly. “He didn’t.”
They stood in silence for a moment, both contemplating the painted figure that connected them in such an uncomfortable way.
As they prepared to depart, Drake stood studying the manor house with an expression Katherine couldn’t quite read—part frustration, part determination, and something else that might have been humility.
“Lady Katherine,” he said abruptly, turning to face her. “A word before you leave?”
Rosabel tactfully moved toward the carriage, giving them a semblance of privacy while remaining within sight for propriety’s sake.
“I believe I owe you an apology,” Drake said, surprising Katherine with his directness. “I came here with certain... assumptions about both the estate and your role in its current condition. I see now that I was mistaken.”
Katherine waited, unsure where this was leading.
“The scope of work required here is far greater than I anticipated,” he continued, his grey eyes holding hers steadily. “And it’s become clear that you possess knowledge I lack—not just about the land and accounts, but about the people, their history, their needs.”
“Lord Greythorne—”
“I find myself in an unusual position,” he interrupted, clearly struggling with his pride. “I need guidance. Your guidance, specifically. Someone who understands both the tenants and the land itself.”
Katherine’s breath caught. “What exactly are you proposing?”
“A collaboration. Your knowledge and expertise in exchange for my postponing any legal challenge to the western fields.” He paused, then added, “We would work together on the restoration—you provide the insight, I provide the resources and authority.”
“For how long?” The question escaped before Katherine could stop it.
“As long as our collaboration proves mutually beneficial to the estate. Indefinitely, if it works well.” His expression grew serious. “I’m not fool enough to dismiss valuable expertise out of pride, Lady Katherine. The question is whether you’re willing to involve yourself with Greythorne again.”
Katherine glanced toward the carriage where Rosabel waited, then back at Drake. Every instinct told her to refuse, to maintain her distance from this place that held so many painful memories. But the tenants’ faces rose in her mind—Mrs. Collins, the Parsons family, all the people who had looked to her for help during Edmund’s neglect.
“I would need certain assurances,” she said carefully. “My involvement would be strictly advisory. I won’t be undermined or dismissed as Edmund used to—”
“You would be a full partner in all decisions affecting the restoration,” Drake interrupted firmly. “Your opinions would be not just heard but actively sought. I may be many things, Lady Katherine, but I’m not fool enough to repeat my predecessor’s mistakes.”
The sincerity in his voice decided her.
“Very well,” Katherine said finally. “I accept your proposal—on a provisional basis. But I reserve the right to withdraw if our collaboration proves... incompatible.”
Drake’s mouth curved in what might have been relief mixed with amusement. “Naturally. I would expect nothing less from someone who increased field yields by twenty percent.”
He extended his hand as if she were a business associate rather than a lady, and after a moment’s hesitation, Katherine took it. His grip was firm, warm, and surprisingly callused for a gentleman.
“We begin tomorrow?” he asked.
“The day after,” Katherine corrected, withdrawing her hand perhaps more quickly than necessary. “I have matters at Willow Park that require attention first.”
“The day after, then.” Drake bowed formally. “Thank you, Lady Katherine. I believe this arrangement will benefit everyone involved.”
As Katherine rejoined Rosabel in the carriage, she wondered what she had just agreed to. Working closely with the new Earl of Greythorne—this complex, prideful, yet unexpectedly reasonable man—would be challenging in ways she couldn’t quite anticipate.
“Well?” Rosabel asked as the carriage pulled away.
“It seems I’m to help restore Greythorne after all,” Katherine replied, her voice carrying a mixture of resignation and something that might have been anticipation.
