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Jack was glad of that. He’d been the target of several speculative glances from the duchess since she’d caught him kissing Harriet. Again. He might have preferred receiving more easygoing instruction from the duke. And yet he wanted to really learn and pitch in.
“Why don’t we meet in the estate office in the morning?” she said.
“Is there one?” Jack asked.
“Yes. Haven’t you looked over all the rooms of your new home?”
He had not. In fact, he hadn’t really thought of Ferrington Hall as home. But now he must, because it would be Harriet’s. He wanted to make it fine for her. And her mother also. Having talked a bit with Mrs. Finch, he was glad to offer her a refuge. “I should do that, I expect,” he replied.
“Mrs. Riley would be happy to show you,” said the duchess. “She’s worked here since she was fourteen, you know.”
Once again, he hadn’t. “So long?”
“She came as a kitchen maid and worked her way up.”
“And has she been happy here?” Jack asked. He still didn’t entirely understand such long-standing relationships.
“I would say so. She is proud of her accomplishments.”
“That’s good.” For some reason, Jack was reminded of the laborer he’d questioned in the field near Winstead Hall. That fellow had said the earl looked after people, lent a helping hand. And what else? Settled disputes, that was it. How was that done? He was no judge. Jack had a sudden sense of a great many people spread out over the lands around him ready to rely on his perspicacity. He didn’t mind responsibility, but that seemed a bit daunting.
After breakfast the next day, the duchess led him down a corridor near the kitchen. She opened the door and gestured him in. Jack entered a small room furnished with a desk and some chairs. Two walls of shelves held ledgers and document boxes. The place reminded him of the headquarters of his shipping business. This had a grander ceiling and fancier carving on the shelves, but the room gave him a sense of industry and purpose he appreciated. He felt comfortable suddenly, more so than anywhere else he’d been in Ferrington Hall.
The duchess started to sit at the desk. Then she stopped and gestured for him to take that seat. Jack did so. There were several stacks of papers set before it.
“I’ve looked over a few things,” she said with a smile and a shrug as she sat down across from him. “I couldn’t resist.”
As if documents were special treats created for her entertainment, Jack thought. It was amusing, really.
“Some of your tenants have pressing questions or requests,” she went on. She pointed to one of the piles. “And some farms lie vacant and should be let.”
“The estate is all rented out?”
“Nearly all. There is a home farm, which you can use for your own purposes.”
“Such as?”
“Agricultural experiments, specialized livestock breeding.”
Jack had no idea what these experiments would be. He decided to save that question. “And these rents are how an estate makes money?”
She nodded.
“So there’s really nothing for me to do?” He wanted a task that required his opinions and energies.
“Not at all. The landowner is responsible for upkeep and improvements. You must decide how much of the income is to be turned back into buildings and tools. A threshing machine, for example, that can be shared by all the tenants in turn.”
Her face glowed with enthusiasm. Jack couldn’t quite visualize a threshing machine. “And the remainder is the profit,” he observed.
“Yes. Your income. But it is well worth investing some part of the rents in the land. Over the long run.”
Jack nodded. “It seems I must learn a whole new business.”
“Some landowners leave oversight to stewards and agents,” the duchess replied. “That can work well if you find good men.” She made a wry face. “Always men, of course.”
“I suspect you are a rare creature.”
She smiled. “There are other women who are just as knowledgeable, though they get little chance to show it. A good landowner is a caretaker, and women are often good at service.”
