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The Duchess’ Second Chance

Page 64

by Hazel Linwood

“And why should they make appointments?”

“Well, Your Grace, many of them do have matters they wish to address with you, even if it isn’t urgent,” Worthington said. “There are property disputes between several of them that need to be adjudicated, and until they can be, there’s a general sense of unrest out there. A few of the men have come to blows.”

Sampson sighed and hung his head. “Are all men like this, Worthington?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Your Grace.”

“It was just the same in the war. Men coming to blows over matters that might easily have been resolved if they had the ability to speak to one another with some civility…”

“I don’t think this is that sort of situation, Your Grace,” Worthington said. “Your tenants don’t crave hostility. They just want to have what they feel is theirs by rights, and many of them feel that their neighbors are taking it away from them. You see, your father’s record-keeping wasn’t always up to par, and as a result the lines of demarcation are less than clear. They need you to make a ruling as to who is entitled to what parts of the land. Until that’s determined, they have no way of sorting it out but to argue.”

“And so I suppose I’ll have to go and visit each house,” Sampson sighed. “It all sounds dreadful.”

But this was part of the business of being Duke of Mortridge.

“The truth is,” he said, “I’ve been so preoccupied with other things lately that I suppose I’ve let some of my more conventional duties slip. I’ve been focused on the duchess. On making this a good home for her.”

“Of course, you have,” Worthington agreed. “Everyone understands that, Your Grace, I can assure you. And the duchess is quite popular among the tenants.”

He frowned. “She is? Do they know her?”

“I can’t say,” Worthington admitted. “If they’ve met her, I’m sure it’s only in passing, because you and I both know she keeps to the house. But everyone knows who she is, of course, and people speak of her fondly.”

“In spite of the scandal?”

“Oh, that’s the sort of thing that only ladies and gentlemen care about,” Worthington told him. “Your tenants don’t mind. It’s easy for them to see how a lady might break an engagement to choose a more favorable one. Some of them even say it’s romantic. They think the two of you must be in love with one another.”

“We ought to encourage them not to gossip,” Sampson said, a dark mood taking hold of him.

“It’s not a thing you’ll be able to prevent,” Worthington said. “You might as well enjoy the fact that the gossip is favorable, Your Grace. It could be far worse.”

“I suppose you’re right about that,” Sampson agreed. “Oh, the truth is that I know none of these things are real problems, Worthington. I’ll look at the map of the holdings and get some answers about the way the land ought to be divided up. Hopefully I’ll be able to get that out to the tenants without taking up too much of anyone’s time.”

“I know they would greatly appreciate it, Your Grace.”

“And in the future, when I am sequestered in my study, correspondence that arrives for me may be pushed under the door.” It seemed a bit juvenile, but it would allow messages to be delivered without requiring him to admit the messenger. There had to be a way to protect his privacy on days like this, when his thoughts were in too much turmoil to allow him to speak to visitors.

“I’ll pass that on, Your Grace,” Worthington said. “I know the staff will be grateful for the assistance.

“That’s good, then. Thank you.” He waited expectantly, thinking that Worthington would depart.

“Your meal?” Worthington asked.

“Oh,” Sampson said. “I’m not very hungry, Worthington, to tell you the truth. I’ll skip my midday meal, but if the cook would like to send something along at dinner time I’ll be sure to admit whoever brings it.”

“I understand,” Worthington said with a nod.

“Is there anything else?”

“No, Your Grace. Nothing further for now. I’ll leave you be.”

The butler retreated and pulled the door closed after him.

Only once he was on his own again did Sampson realize how much he had relished the interruption. He did want to be alone. Already, the thought of someone else coming in overwhelmed him. And yet, it had been good, at least for a while, to let another person’s voice cut through the whirling thoughts in his head. He had been happy to stop chasing his own innermost fears around for a few minutes. Now they all came rushing back.

He let out a sigh and sat down at his desk. At least there was the task of looking at the land maps to occupy him. That would take a few hours, and during that time, he’d be able to stop thinking about Amanda.

Yes, he thought as he unrolled the first map, this was a good solution to his troubles. He would throw himself into his work. The more he focused on duty, the less time and attention he would have for foolish things like the feelings that had begun to stir whenever he thought of Amanda. And before he knew it, those feelings would have passed, and he simply wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.