Claiming(9)

“Good morning, my lady.”

Rowena jumped at the whispered greeting, close to her ear, and blushed, as if caught red-handed, wondering if her thoughts hadn’t somehow summoned him to her. She recovered quickly and gave him a cool stare which seemed to amuse him.

“Sir Saher! I did not expect to see you here.” She was suddenly nervous, aware of what her father’s reaction to her disobedience would have been. But, strangely, his expression was not one of anger.

“And I didn’t expect to be here, my lady, I assure you. What I expected was to break my fast in a leisurely fashion and to be shown around the estates by my wife and steward. Not chase around the countryside after my wife.”

“It just shows that life seldom gives us what we expect. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend.”

She turned away and walked along the wooden planks placed on top of the mud for the men loading the cargo. She’d hoped he’d take the not-so-subtle hint and leave, but he fell into step beside her.

“Excellent idea. I’ll join you and you may show me the Gresham holdings while I am here. Let’s not make it a total waste of a morning.” Her heart sank. How was she going to lose Sir Saher before she met up with the merchant? “This vessel is very fine,” he indicated the large cog before them.

“The finest.” She stopped walking and looked up at the ship proudly. “It can sail all around Cape Skagen to get to the Baltic, with no ill effect. And the fore and stern castles, which you see we’ve added, are the best defence against pirates. Our trade with the Baltic and Germany is flourishing because of it. The merchants will take as much grain as we can produce.”

“Excellent. I can see the estate’s business is in good hands.”

She turned to him in surprise. “You would leave it to me, sir?” She could barely hope that such a man as this would allow his wife any authority.

She jumped as he reached out and took her hands in his. “These hands are capable, I’ve no doubt, but do not think I allow you complete control over the estate’s affairs, for I do not. I will be looking through the accounts later today and I expect you to inform me of all I need to know.” She wanted to pull back her hands from his but she was frozen, aware only of the gentle way he held her, and of its effect on her. She swallowed and held his gaze, waiting with a heightened sense of anticipation to see what he would do next. He smiled. “Now, lead on, show me the Gresham warehouse I’ve heard so much about.”

She did as he bid, not least so she didn’t have to look into those dark grey eyes that seemed to see directly into the heart of her. She shook her head in a vain attempt to rid it of the confusion brought about by his touch and words, and stopped beside open warehouse doors from which a stream of men laden with cargo emerged.

“The Gresham warehouse. We keep the goods here until the cog has returned. My father employed learned men to advise on its construction and the goods therefore keep well and are sought-after because of it. We keep a mix of…” She blushed, suddenly realizing she was getting carried away with her enthusiasm for the subject. She waved her arm. “I’m talking too much, I’m sure you’re not interested. Few people are. But it’s what has made us prosperous in bad times.”

A smile flickered on his lips, as though he found her passion amusing. “Impressive,” but he was looking at her. “A fighter and a businesswoman.”

“My father taught me to take care of business. He taught me to look out for myself, to not trust others.”

“These are good lessons. But you know, Lady Rowena, he trusted me with his most beloved possession. Should you not also?”

There was a heavy pause and she couldn’t prevent herself from frowning as the truth of his words hit home. She’d loved her father, despite his many faults. Not least of which was the imprisonment of her mother, a woman whose unbalanced and passionate nature had been her downfall. But he had always been mistrustful of people, except obviously, of this man. Should she trust him?

She only knew it was too soon, she knew him too little. Besides it wasn’t in men’s words that she could trust—she knew that through experience—it was in their actions.

“You must have business of your own, sir. I am merely meeting a merchant to discuss a further shipment.” She waved her hand in what she hoped was an airy, unconcerned fashion. “’Tis nothing important, too small to interest you.”

“Believe me, my lady. I am very interested in all your business.” He narrowed his eyes. “And I doubt very much ’tis ‘small.’”