Blandford between them, they could build something together out of their marriage.
‘There’s meat and bread, too,’ she offered, smiling back. It was hard not to. His smile was intoxicating, his good humour contagious and, as long as she was honest with herself about the limits of what this marriage could provide, it was safe to indulge. This man was easy to be with, perhaps even easy to work with. The men seemed to like him. She’d heard them joking up on the roof, bits of their conversation and laughter floating down to the ground. That was new, too, or was it that she’d not had time to discover it? Had all this good will and good humour been there and she hadn’t noticed? Perhaps she’d been too wrapped up in her own needs and disappointments to truly see him? ‘Let me make you something,’ Avaline offered.
‘I can make my own bread and meat.’ He grinned, stretching around her again. The action brought his body close to her, the smell of morning soap and afternoon sweat combining for a masculine appeal all its own. He assembled a stack of bread and meat and gave her a wink. ‘Come on, let’s find a place to sit before John has us back up there slaving away again.’
‘John?’ Avaline asked in surprise. A duke’s son was on first-name basis with a tenant farmer?
‘John Wicks.’ Fortis found them a piece of grass and sat down without ceremony. She joined him, tucking her skirts beneath her.
‘I know Mr Wicks. He’s a good man. He’s a leader among the tenants. He worked with me and Mr Benning to take care of those who needed it most while you were gone.’ Something nudged at her arm and she looked down to see Fortis holding out bread and sliced ham. ‘What’s this?’
‘Your lunch. You didn’t think I grabbed all of this for me or that I would eat it all in front of you?’ He laughed. ‘Take it.’
‘Thank you, that was very...thoughtful.’
He stretched out long legs that drew the eye. ‘John speaks highly of you. He says you’ve done a masterful job of keeping the estate going. He says Benning is a good man, too.’
‘You’ll want to look over the ledgers and decide where to go from here,’ Avaline offered generously, blushing from the praise. He would never know how much it cost her to make that offer, to begin turning the estate over to him, the running of her home handed over to a veritable stranger, never mind they’d grown up as neighbouring families. Fortis was seven years older than she was. It wasn’t as if they’d roamed the fields together. He’d already had a commission in the military by the time she was thirteen.
Fortis knit his brow. ‘I’m to make the decision? It seems I might be the worst possible person to do that at this point. I’m the one who knows the least what the estate needs. It seems that perhaps Mr Benning and yourself, myself, and perhaps John Wicks and others like him should make those decisions. I’d appreciate it, Avaline, if we handled the reins of the estate together.’
He paused and she almost choked on the ham. ‘You want my input?’ she stammered.
‘Yes,’ he answered simply. ‘Unless you don’t wish to offer it? Perhaps you want to lay it all down?’
‘No. Not at all,’ Avaline said firmly lest she accidentally throw this unexpected gift away. ‘I would be pleased if you would consult me. I will help in any way I can.’
‘Good.’ He gave her an infectious grin and swallowed the last of his lunch. ‘It looks as though John wants to get back at it.’ He rose and held out a hand to help her up. It was a natural enough gesture, a casual one. But Avaline hesitated, feeling as if taking his hand signalled something more, a sealing of their partnership, or at the very least, an acknowledgement of it. Was she ready for that? She supposed she didn’t have a choice. Ready or not, Fortis was here, offering his hand, and, in time, perhaps he might offer her something more. Avaline reached up and took it, aware of all the flaws and hope that came with the gesture.
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