Page 39 of A Rogue to Resist
“Don’t become accustomed to it,” she warned, though without real heat. “I still maintain that your approach to local relationships lacks nuance.”
“And I maintain that your loyalty to established suppliers, while admirable, has allowed some of them to take advantage of Greythorne’s good nature,” Drake countered. “But perhaps between your knowledge of the people and my understanding of business, we can achieve a balance that serves everyone’s interests.”
It was the most conciliatory statement he had made since their acquaintance began, and Katherine found herself momentarily at a loss for response.
Before she could formulate a reply, they were approached by the vicar’s wife, Mrs. Langley, a notorious gossip whose keen interest in parish affairs extended well beyond spiritual matters.
“Lady Katherine, Lord Greythorne,” she greeted them with an overly bright smile. “How lovely to see you both taking such an active interest in village matters. Together,” she added meaningfully.
“Good day, Mrs. Langley,” Katherine replied, her social mask slipping firmly back into place. “We’re arranging materials for the estate repairs.”
“So I gathered,” the vicar’s wife said, her eyes twinkling with barely suppressed delight. “Quite... intensely, from what I observed.”
Katherine felt heat rising to her cheeks again. “Lord Greythorne and I occasionally have different perspectives on estate management.”
“Naturally, naturally,” Mrs. Langley agreed too readily. “Though if I may say so, it’s quite refreshing to see such... passionate engagement from both of you. The late earl, God rest his soul, rarely concerned himself with such matters.”
“Times change, Mrs. Langley,” Drake said smoothly. “As do priorities.”
“Indeed they do, my lord.” The vicar’s wife’s gaze moved between them with undisguised curiosity. “The parish has noted with approval how frequently Lady Katherine has been consulting with you on estate matters. Such a sensible arrangement, given her experience and your fresh perspective.”
Katherine tensed at the implication that the entire parish was discussing her interactions with Drake.
“It’s a temporary arrangement,” she clarified. “Until Lord Greythorne is fully acquainted with Greythorne’s particular circumstances.”
“Of course, of course,” Mrs. Langley agreed, though her tone suggested she believed otherwise. “Though Mrs. Winters was just saying to me this morning how natural you both looked, riding side by side to inspect the north cottages yesterday. Almost as if—”
“If you’ll excuse us, Mrs. Langley,” Drake interrupted, perhaps sensing Katherine’s growing discomfort. “We have several more suppliers to visit before returning to the manor.”
“Certainly, my lord. Don’t let me keep you.” Her smile turned sly. “Though I must say, it does my heart good to see Greythorne in such capable hands. Four hands, as it were.”
She moved away with a knowing look that made Katherine want to sink into the ground.
“Did she just imply...?” she began, then stopped, unwilling to even articulate the suggestion.
“That we make a fine couple? I believe she did,” Drake replied, seeming more amused than offended. “Apparently our public disagreement has only fuelled speculation rather than dispelling it.”
“This is precisely why I avoid village market days,” Katherine muttered, gathering her skirts to continue walking. “The gossip spreads faster than fever in winter.”
“Is it so terrible to be linked with me in village speculation?” Drake asked, falling into step beside her.
There was something in his tone—a hint of genuine curiosity beneath the teasing question—that made Katherine glance at him sharply.
“It is inappropriate,” she replied carefully. “I am a widow who has no intention of remarrying, and you are...”
“Yes?” he prompted when she hesitated.
“You are the new earl with a duty to make an advantageous match,” Katherine finished, choosing the most practical of the many possible conclusions to that sentence. “Village gossip serves neither of our interests.”
Drake studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “A logical assessment, as always.”
They continued through the market, completing their business with the remaining suppliers with mercifully less drama than the timber negotiation. Yet Katherine remained uncomfortably aware of the whispers and glances that followed them. When a group of women fell suddenly silent as they approached, only to burst into poorly suppressed giggles after they passed, she felt her patience wearing dangerously thin.
“Ignore them,” Drake advised quietly. “Reaction only feeds the rumour mill.”
“Easy for you to say,” Katherine retorted. “Men are rarely the primary subjects of such speculation. A new earl arguing with his predecessor’s widow is entertaining gossip. A widow frequently seen in a gentleman’s company is a scandal waiting to happen.”
Drake frowned at this. “Surely your position as dowager countess, engaged in legitimate estate business, protects you from the worst of such implications?”
