Why did he have to remind her that he had been forced into this marriage? She was rowing in the same boat, but she didn’t continue to cast that fact up before him.
Beth came in clutching a handful of paper, ink, and a quill. “The innkeeper says this is all he has, but he’ll send for more if you need it.”
“Thank you. Take the baby into the next room and unpack. Close the door please.”
“Yes, my lady.”
When they were alone, Diana uncapped the ink, frowned at the quill, and held it out to Evan. “Have you a knife? This nib is shredded.”
He pulled a dagger from his boot, and she blinked. Once again she was reminded that he’d spent a great deal of his life as a soldier. With two quick strokes, he sharpened the pen and cut a nice slit in the end. “Not as good as if I could harden it in some hot sand, but it should do for now.”
“Thank you. Now, the lists.”
“Where do we even start?” He pulled his chair away from the wall, lifting it over a packing crate, and set it beside her.
As he sat, his thigh and his shoulder brushed hers, and she was very aware of how much larger he was than she. His face was so close to hers, she could see the clear blue of his eyes and how they were a bit darker around the pupils. He had high cheekbones and a narrow-bridged nose. His bottom lip was fuller than the top, and for a moment, she wondered if his kiss would be soft and gentle or masterful.
“Diana?”
“Yes?” She blinked, looking at the paper, praying he would never know where her thoughts had been taking her, heat rising up her throat and into her cheeks.
“Can you not think where to start either?”
She tried to remember what they had been speaking of as she inhaled the scent of his shaving soap. “Help first, I should imagine. Servants, skilled labor, and estate workers. Should we start from the top and work our way down?”
“The top? You mean the attics?”
She frowned. “No, start with the highest-ranking servant, the steward, and work your way down to the bootboy.” Did he know nothing about domestic help?
He nodded. “Oh, like the army. Field marshal to private?”
“Exactly.” She dipped the pen and wiped it on the edge of the inkwell. “Will Mr. Shand be your steward or is he your valet?”
“Can’t he be both?”
“For a time perhaps, but you’re going to want to hire someone who can oversee the estate, especially when you’re away, and that man can’t also spend time being in charge of your clothes and toiletries. The steward will stay on the estate, and your valet travels with you.”
“I see. Well, for now I can dress myself, and Shand can help me around the property. What else do we need?” He propped his elbow on the desk and his chin in his hand, studying her.
Her face warmed under his scrutiny, and she had to wonder what he saw and whether it pleased him.
“Once the house is habitable, we’ll need a butler, a housekeeper, a cook. Beth is my lady’s maid, and you’ll need the aforementioned valet. Those are the upper staff. Then for the lower staff, we’ll need a scullery maid or two, upstairs and downstairs maids, a parlor maid, footmen, kitchen maid, laundress, and a bootboy. Those are just the inside help.” She wrote as she talked. The paper wasn’t of the highest quality, but it would do until she could buy better. “Outside you’ll need a coachman, a gardener, a gamekeeper, a gatekeeper, groundskeepers. Depending upon whether you intend to keep a large stable, there will be grooms and stable boys. Beyond that, you will have the tenant farmers who will work the land for you in exchange for proper housing and a portion of the crops or the money they bring.”
With every new item on her list, his expression grew bleaker.
“That is a lot of people who will be dependent on us … on me.”
“Being a nobleman brings responsibility. It isn’t all riding around in fine carriages and attending ton functions. Noblesse oblige isn’t just an idle notion.”
“I’m learning that.”
“To fix the house is going to take a lot of work. Skilled workers. You’ll have to send to London for them, most likely, and they will need a place to stay while they work. This inn”—she waved toward the small room—“will never hold them.”
“Do you have any ideas?”
Diana nodded, pleased that he would ask her opinion, since no man had ever done so before. “One thing you will have to do is roust the squatters from the cottages and see what condition the crofts’ barns are in. If they are like the house, they’re going to need work. Re-thatching at the very least.”
“How many cottages are there?” He scrubbed his hand down his cheek and tapped his lower lip, drawing her gaze.
She swallowed. “It depends upon the size of the estate. There could be five, or there could be fifty.”
“I don’t know the acreage. I suppose I’ll have to ride over it to find the boundaries.”
“From the little we saw at the manor house, you’re going to need carpenters, painters, plasterers, masons, glaziers, and laborers. Something will have to be done with the thicket that is growing on the front of the house, and the driveway will need to be dragged and graveled. I can make a guess at what the kitchen gardens and formal gardens must look like. If we’re to have the house ready for a Royal Visit, we’re going to have to focus our attention on those areas the Prince Regent is likely to see, and wait on the rest. Though you won’t want to wait too long on the cottages, because spring will arrive, and you need to get fields planted. Without proper housing, you will find it difficult to get anyone to work for you.”
“I doubt we will at any rate. You’re talking about …” He paused. “A hundred people to hire? Maybe more? I don’t even know where to look for them. I’m sure skilled workers aren’t just to be plucked off of the hedges. It will take weeks to even find the right people.”
She nodded, her shoulders sagging. “It is a daunting task.”
Evan leaned a bit closer. “How is it you know all these things? About the servants and the workers and such? I suppose it was living on your father’s estate?”
She ran the barbs of the goose-feather quill through her fingers. “I was sent away to school when I was seven, and I have not spent much time at Seaton Manor. But I was raised for this. I was groomed to marry a landed gentleman and to run a house, to be the mistress of an estate.” Though no one had prepared her for the condition of the particular estate of which she was now the mistress. Nor being the wife of the Earl of Whitelock, late of His Majesty’s army.
She looked up and found he was so close, she could see the many shades of blue that made up the irises in his eyes. One could almost imagine plunging into them as if into the sea. His hand reached out and captured her hands, stilling their movements with the feather. Warmth seeped from his skin to hers, and the roughness of his hand, the size of it, bespoke their differences. She leaned in toward him, almost as if being tugged …
Thick, dark lashes fringed his eyes, and he had a clear shadow along his jaw. Would his whiskers be rough in the morning? Her hand itched to investigate, to skim her fingers along his sharp cheekbone. What would his hair look like, tousled from sleep? Was it coarse and springy or soft and silky?