Strange. He did not seem at all amazed that she knew about the subject. Then again, he was a friend of Montagu’s, and he might have told Lord St. Albans about Eleanor’s knowledge. “Come with me.” She led him to the section on farming, estates, and animal husbandry. “Many of the books will essentially apply to all areas of the country. However, you will have to adapt some of the methods.”
He nodded then glanced at her. “Would it help to know where the estates are located?”
Why could he not have discussed this with her before? “It might.”
St. Albans’s green gaze met hers. “The estate I will first have is only about three hours north of here. That is the one for which I will be responsible for the remainder of my father’s life.”
Alice interrupted him. “Will be?”
He gave her a look of long suffering. “Yes, I will tell you about it later.” She nodded. “The dukedom’s main estate is north of York near the sea. There are several others.” He took a breath. “The one that is my current and main concern is in Scotland near Inverness. My great-great-uncle on my mother’s side left it to me.”
“And you know nothing.” It was not at all good to be thrown into something as complicated as estate management. “Oh, dear.”
He let out a breath. “I assure you my response was much stronger. I am immensely grateful he left it to me. He and I were close, and I spent a great deal of time there. However, I am totally unprepared for the responsibility.”
Why did his uncle not train him? “Did he know that?”
St. Albans’s gave a light shrug. “To be honest, it never came up. He refused to tell anyone who he had named his heir.”
What a bunch of numskulls. “You seem to have a great many odd relatives.”
He winced. “I can only suppose he expected my father to attend to it.”
The less said about his father the better. At least until she knew the whole story. “We had better get started.” Alice reached up but could not reach the book she wanted.
“May I help you?”
“Please. I want Grisenthwaite’sA New Theory of Agriculture. It was published a few years ago, but it is an excellent place to begin.” St. Albans—when had she stopped using “‘lord”? She shook her head. This was not the time to ponder the change. “I do not suppose you have heard of Coke of Norfolk or Holkham Hall?” St. Albans—LordSt. Albans shook his head. “I do not know why I asked.” She took the volume. “Now we are looking for Davy’sElements of Agricultural Chemistry.”
“I’ve got it here.” He tugged a book out and gave it to her.
“Excellent.” She put it on a table with chairs around it. “We can go over these before you start reading on your own.”
“I also require books on sheep and whisky.”
He really did need a great deal of advice. “We will get there. Although, I must admit, I know very little about whisky.”
A smile grew on his well-formed lips. “My uncle believed that in England it would one day rival brandy.”
“Never having tasted either libation, I have no opinion.” Which only meant she must remedy her lack of knowledge. “Be that as it may, I advise you begin with one subject first then move on to the others. Davy’s book will touch on sheep and other animals.” She took a seat. St. Albans lowered himself into the chair to the near side of the rectangular table. Alice turned the book so that they could both see it and began to explain what was in the different chapters. When she was done, he had a dazed look about him. “Are you well?”
“Yes.” He gave himself a slight shake. “Yes. It is a great deal to take in.”
She closed the book. “If you are going to do something, you should do it well.”
“I agree.” He inclined his head. “What about the next one?”
“It is very much the same but from a slightly different perspective. Davy’s book was developed from a compilation of papers written by landowners”—she did not need to tell them they were Whig aristocrats—“discussing the results of the different farming methods.”
Understanding donned on his lean face. “Which is where I discover what worked in different areas.”
“Exactly.” It occurred to her that she was pleased he had immediately made the connection.
He gathered the books together. “If it was not raining, I would ask you if you would like to go with me to Gunter’s. If you like ices, that is?”
How very nice of him. “I do like them, and we can go today. The rain had cleared by the time I arrived here. I sent my groom back for my high-perched phaeton.”
St. Albans grinned. “You mentioned it to me once. I would be delighted to ride in it.”
