He had it all done-the eaves all checked, those in danger swept, all the stock checked and safe, paths to the buildings cleared-by lunchtime. Crossing the front hall on his way upstairs to change, he heard Catriona call his name.
She was in her office, seated at her desk with McArdle and a dour man he identified as the recalcitrant Melchett in attendance. Catriona looked up as he entered, and smiled, but a frown lurked in her eyes.
"We've been discussing the crop schedules." With a wave, she indicated the papers and maps spread over her desk. "We were wondering if you had any suggestions to make?''
We who? Aware of a certain tension in the air, Richard frowned and looked down at the lists and field placements. "I suspect," he said, "you'd know better than I."
"We were thinking as how you'd done so much with the cattle, that you might have a few pointers, like, about the crops." Melchett studied Richard unblinkingly.
Richard returned his stare, then glanced at McArdle, then looked back at the maps. "If you asked me about crops and rotation patterns in Cambridgeshire I could give you chapter and verse. But here? There's too many variables in different parts of the country to make facile comparisons. What we grow in the south won't grow so well here. Livestock are different-the principles of sound stock management are the same anywhere."
"But you must have some ideas," Melchett pressed. "Some principles, like you said."
Resisting the urge to narrow his eyes and put the man firmly in his place, on Catriona's behalf, Richard switched from his instinctive role as Catriona's protector, to that of her champion. "The only real measure of effectiveness in crop farming is the yield per acre. If you had those figures"-he looked at McArdle and raised his brows-"I could tell you if you were doing well, or needed to do more."
"Yields, yields." McArdle flicked pages in a huge worn ledger sitting on the table before him. "Here they are." He turned the ledger around so Richard could read it. "For the last five years."
Richard looked, and looked again. He'd expected to see good figures-Jamie had told him the vale was fertile and did well. But what danced before his widening eyes were yields consistently more than fifty percent above the accepted best. And he'd been raised in some of the highest yielding country in England. He said as much-in tones edged with awe. "These are without doubt the best figures I've ever seen." He returned the tome to McArdle, now grinning widely. Richard glanced at Melchett. "Whatever you've been doing, I'd strongly advise you to keep doing it."
"Oh! Aye-" The big man straightened. "If that's the way of things…"
Richard straightened and smiled down at Catriona. "I'll leave you to get on with it." Turning away, he added: "Incidentally, remind me to make sure my brother and my cousin Vane have a chance to quiz you when we meet." From the door, Richard caught Catriona's eye. "They'll be very keen to learn the secrets of your agricultural success."
With that, he left them, Catriona with her eyes wide, McArdle still grinning, and Melchett in a much more humble mood.
"Catriona."
On her way through the kitchen to the barn to oversee the children's riding lesson, currently in progress, Catriona halted and swung back to face Algaria, who had followed her down the corridor.
"Corby's just come in " With a graceful gesture, Algaria indicated the front hall. "He says the snow has snapped branches from at least five trees in the orchard. Do you want me to tell him to lop the branches off and seal the scars as usual?"
Catriona opened her mouth to agree, then hesitated. "Corby will be staying the night, won't he?"
"Yes."
"Good." Catriona smiled. "I'll discuss the matter with Richard-tell Corby we'll speak to him this evening."
With her customary regal nod, she whirled, eager to join the fun in the big barn, she hurried on through the kitchens, her smile radiant, happiness lighting her eyes.
Behind her, Algaria stood, silently contained, her black gaze fixed on Catriona as she hurried away. Her suppressed fury vibrated around her, an anger others could sense; the kitchen staff warily gave her a wide berth. Finally drawing in a slow breath, Algaria drew herself up, drew her anger in, and, lips tightly compressed, turned and quit the kitchens.
Leaving Cook, kneading dough, sighing and shaking her head.
"Thank you."
Catriona pressed a warm kiss to Richard's lips the instant he settled beside her in their big bed.
"What was that for?"
"For your kind words on the crop yields."
"Kind?" Richard snorted, and wrestled her atop him, sitting her upright, straddling his hips. "Cynsters do not know any kind words when it comes to land. That was the truth. Your yields are absolutely staggering." He started to unbutton her nightgown. "And I was perfectly serious about Devil and Vane wanting to talk to you. They will. They'll be excessively glad I've married you."
"Will they?"
"Hmm." Frowning, Richard struggled with the tiny button at her throat. "They both manage lots of acres. In Devil's case, being Cambridgeshire, it's mostly crops, but Vane farms in Kent-hops, fruit and nuts, mainly."
"Mmm."