Page 19 of Daisy and the Duke
Miss Wallis still looked appalled at the coarseness of the discussion, and the duke must have realized a change in subject was called for.
“I noticed that a number of fields at Lyondale lie fallow. Is that common in this area of the country?” He looked at Lady Rutherford and asked politely, “How are such matters handled at Rutherford Grange?”
Lady Rutherford looked blank, then turned to Daisy and repeated, “Howaresuch matters handled at Rutherford Grange?”
Daisy put down her cup before saying, “The management of the land is of course considered from several factors, and what is done at Rutherford Grange may not suit Lyondale. Both the tenant farmers and the estate’s own fields are scheduled years ahead, with some going fallow to restore the land between plantings. I believe ten percent are fallow at any particular time.”
She had begun speaking directly to her stepmother, but then turned to Tristan, who’d asked the original question.
“It sounds as if considerable planning is required,” Tristan said. “I wonder if I might arrange for my estate manager to speak to yours.”
Daisy had no answer, for the fact was that Rutherford Grange had no such manager. The last man had been let go a few years back, and Daisy handled everything now. But it would be embarrassing to admit that in such company. Both Lady Rutherford and Bella were staring at her in alarm.
At last, she squeaked out, “I am certain that everyone at Rutherford Grange would be most pleased to answer whatever questions come up.”
“Indeed,” Lady Rutherford jumped in. “We will do anything in our power. His grace has but to ask. Isn’t that right, Bella darling?”
“Of course, Mama,” Bella said, peeping at Tristan beneath lowered eyelashes.
“Miss Bella,” the vicar said then, with an unctuous smile. “May I say that you look particularly charming tonight. Is that the much-vaunted gown your mother was telling me about?”
“It is, sir,” Bella said, her eyes modestly downcast. “Mama indulges me.”
“You are my only daughter, darling,” Lady Rutherford replied, ignoring Daisy completely.
Lyon cleared his throat, but Lady Weatherby managed to ask Lord Dallmire something and diverted the conversation before Lyon could step into a very awkward subject. Thus saved from being the center of conversation, Daisy did her best to chat with her neighbors, and managed to not embarrass herself, though she knew she was no salon wit.
Thankfully, attention never returned to her. Hornthwaite asked Lord Lyon if he had plans to attend services in the village. “The late duke did, you know. Until his illness prevented.”
“I shall add that pilgrimage to my responsibilities,” Lyon said.
“It would be advantageous, your grace.”
“For whom?” Lyon asked.
Hornthwaite looked flustered, but then said, “Is it not always beneficial to attend church?”
“Not if a man needs to catch up on his sleep after a night of cards,” Lyon replied.
Daisy saw the set of his jaw, and wondered if Hornthwaite would have the sense to stop questioning the duke about his habits. Thankfully, the topic changed soon after.
The meal progressed to the dessert without mishap, though Daisy for one was ready to flee from the tension in the room. All the personalities vying for control, all the people asking favors from others and trying to find favor with Lord Lyon…she had no part in it, and felt like a deer among wolves.
After the meal, the ladies went through to the drawing room, while the men remained for the customary smoke and drink.
A maid handed out tea or sherry to the women. Everyone chatted while Lady Rutherford stared daggers at Lady Weatherby, and Bella and Caroline exchanged pleasantries as if their mothers were not about to go to war. Daisy accepted a tiny glass of Madeira wine, unsure if she even really liked Madeira.
“Perhaps a little music?” Miss Wallis asked hopefully. She looked to Daisy, who unfortunately did not count pianoforte among her accomplishments.
Daisy, still holding her glass, gestured toward Bella, about to explain that her stepsister was the one gifted in music. Just then, Lady Weatherby sneezed, knocking Daisy’s elbow. The glass of Madeira went flying…directly toward Bella.
The red wine exploded all over the pale gown.
“Oh, no,” Daisy whispered.
“Oh,no!” Bella wailed at the same moment.
“You clumsy little girl!” Lady Rutherford cried in dismay. “You’ve ruined your sister’s new gown!”
