Page 20 of A Rogue to Resist
“My lady,” he said with a deep bow, his young face beaming with genuine pleasure. “The staff will be overcome with joy when they hear you’ve visited.”
“Thank you, Richards,” she replied warmly. “You’ve been promoted, I see.”
“Yes, my lady. After Simmons left, Mrs. Finch was kind enough to elevate me.”
Lord Greythorne, who had been examining a crack in the ceiling cornicing, turned his attention to the young man. “How many staff remain at Greythorne, Richards?”
The footman straightened. “Less than half the proper number, my lord. The late earl reduced the household significantly in recent years.”
“Yet another economy,” Lord Greythorne observed dryly as Richards departed. “One wonders where all the money went, if not into maintaining the estate or employing a full staff.”
Katherine took a sip of tea, avoiding his gaze. She knew exactly where the money had gone—gambling debts, expensive mistresses, and the elaborate town house Edmund had purchased for his latest paramour just months before his death. But such matters were hardly appropriate topics for discussion.
“The estate’s accounts will provide a more complete picture of expenditures,” she said instead.
“Indeed, they will,” Lord Greythorne agreed. “I’ve only seen preliminary figures thus far, but Thompson has promised a thorough review.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Thompson himself, looking somewhat harried.
“Forgive the intrusion, my lord, my ladies,” he said with a bow. “But there’s a delegation of tenant farmers requesting an audience. They’ve learned of your presence, Lady Katherine, and are most insistent.”
Katherine set down her cup in surprise. “A delegation? Whatever for?”
“They wish to discuss the mill, my lady. The repairs promised by the late earl were never completed, and with the spring rains, they fear it may not survive another season.”
Lord Greythorne frowned. “The mill is essential to the estate’s operation. Why would Edmund delay such critical repairs?”
“He claimed more pressing expenses in London,” Thompson replied, his carefully neutral tone suggesting he found this explanation as inadequate as Lord Greythorne clearly did.
“I see,” Lord Greythorne’s jaw tightened. “Very well, I shall meet with them immediately.”
“They’re asking specifically for Lady Katherine, my lord,” Thompson clarified hesitantly. “They say she always understood their concerns when the late earl did not.”
Katherine felt Lord Greythorne’s gaze on her once more, assessing, recalculating.
“That is... enlightening,” he said finally. “Lady Katherine, would you be willing to join me in meeting these tenants?”
His request caught her off guard. Edmund had never sought her input in such matters, despite the tenants’ evident preference for dealing with her.
“I... yes, of course,” she replied, surprised by her own ready agreement. “If you think it would be helpful.”
“I think it would be illuminating,” he corrected, rising to his feet. “For both of us.”
The tenant farmers had gathered in the estate office, a modest room adjacent to the library where Edmund had rarely set foot, having preferred to conduct business in London whenever possible. There were five men in total, representing the major farms that comprised the Greythorne estate. Katherine recognized each of them, having made it her business to know the tenants during her time as countess, despite Edmund’s disinterest.
“Lady Katherine.” Farmer Hobbs, the unofficial leader of the group, stepped forward with a respectful bow. “It does our hearts good to see you again.”
“Mr. Hobbs,” she replied warmly. “It’s lovely to see you all, though I understand there are concerns about the mill.”
“Aye, my lady. It’s the wheel mechanism—rotted through in places, and the late earl promised repairs after the last harvest before his passing. But nothing was done, and now...”
“Now you fear it won’t last through another season,” Lord Greythorne finished for him. “A legitimate concern, from what I’ve observed of the estate’s general condition.”
The farmers exchanged glances, clearly uncertain how to respond to this blunt assessment from their new landlord.
“We mean no disrespect to the late earl,” Farmer Hobbs said cautiously.
“Nor do I expect you to pretend all was well when it clearly was not,” Lord Greythorne replied. “I will welcomeyour honesty, Mr. Hobbs. The estate has been neglected, and addressing that neglect begins with acknowledging its existence.”
