Page 10 of The Duke’s Spinster Bride (A Duke’s Game #2)

Chapter Ten

“Y ou did this to thank me? For what happened with your father?” Frederick frowned, glancing back to look at Andrea.

He could have sworn he saw her eyes widen slightly, brow creased as though she herself was surprised, but the expression vanished too quickly for him to be sure.

Instead, she smiled at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she gestured to the room. “It seemed the least I could do.”

He nodded, chewing on his bottom lip as he turned away from her. He would have believed that she was doing this as another way to simply irritate him, but to thank him? Yet perhaps it was a little of both.

He shook his head, deciding that trying to puzzle out the riddle that was his new wife would only give him a headache. He ran a hand along the bookshelves. They were no longer a haphazard assortment of mismatched titles, but lined up in neat, perfect rows.

“How long did this take you?” he asked.

“A few hours.” She shifted from foot to foot.

He let a breath whistle through his teeth. “You did all of this completely unaided, in a few hours?”

He could feel Andrea’s gaze on the back of his neck as he turned in a slow circle around the room. He ran a hand through his hair, his tongue pressed against his teeth. Everywhere he looked, there was something new to notice.

“Not a single servant helped?” He realised his jaw was practically on the floor and snapped it shut.

“I acted alone.” There was an edge to her voice, and he glanced at her, noticing the tension in her shoulders.

“You have managed to reorganise my entire collection of books, file away my papers and –” his eyes widened as he caught sight of the new paintings on the walls. “You have even redecorated.”

“I thought the previous decorations were a little drab for a space that seems so bright and airy.” She gestured to the sunlight streaming through his study window.

He nodded. “I can see what you mean, though this room did not seem quite so bright before you moved the desk. Such a small thing, and yet it makes such a big difference. And you even managed not to scratch the floor!”

“I put some cloth under it, I would not have been able to slide it by myself without it.” Andrea was twisting the fabric of her dress in one of her hands, and Frederick could see an intensity in her gaze as she watched him walk around the room. “Though if you would prefer, I am sure it would not take long to return it to the chaos it was in before.”

“The chaos?” Frederick arched an eyebrow at her, noting the slight tilt of her chin and flash of defiance in her eyes. The jade green of them was dazzling in the sunlight. “It was not that bad.”

Andrea snorted. “No, I suppose it could have been worse. You could have piled your books on the floor rather than throwing them haphazardly on the bookshelves.”

He laughed. “Indeed. Or I suppose I could have simply done away with bookshelves entirely. Though that may have upset the maids. I actually knew a baron down in Waltham who did that, he claimed that books liked it better on the floor.”

“He sounds like an interesting character.” Andrea was watching him intently, and though she had a smile on her face, he could see the tightness in her jaw, the hard set of her shoulders.

It made him feel as if he were a wild animal, something she was afraid would pounce at her with only a moment’s notice. His heart twisted, he turned from her.

“You do not need to keep it like this, I can see that you hate it-” Andrea began, and he heard a catch in her voice.

He turned to face her, his brow furrowed. “Hate it? You have done what I have been putting off for years in a matter of hours. This is truly impressive work.”

“It – what?” Andrea blinked at him, her eyes narrowed. “You mean to say you like what I have done?”

“You need not sound so surprised.” He laughed and then ran a hand along the nearest bookshelf. “How have you arranged the books?”

“Alphabetically by subject, if I had had a little more time I would have further arranged them by author surname, but I wanted to get to the rest of the study.”

“Just think what you could have accomplished with the full day.” He gestured around them. “Are you planning on doing this with any of the other rooms? My grandmother is forever complaining about the state of the drawing room.”

“I can see why. The way the furniture is arranged leaves far too much dead space. And the rug is a travesty.” Andrea was watching his face, as though waiting for some spark of violence.

Frederick swallowed, doing his best to look as non-threatening as possible. He made sure his shoulders were relaxed, kept a smile on his face and leaned back against the desk. It’s new position meant that he got the full force of the noon sun against the back of his neck. He felt it relax the last of the tension from his muscles.

“You should work the same magic you did in my study then. No doubt it would be just as exemplary as your work here.” His eyes fell upon the easel and canvas that were by the door. “Though I do have one thing I would like to change.”

“You do?”

“When you have finished that painting, I would like to hang it on the wall. I shall take down the portrait of my great grandfather. You glare at me enough without my needing his glaring face as well.” He grinned at her. “As it is my study, people will only take it as my admiration of your work.”

Andrea’s jaw tightened and she opened her mouth and closed it several times before she shook her head. Frederick noticed a blush spread across her cheeks. The way the light caught her hair made it look as though it were spun from the finest gold silk.

Stop ogling her. His heart sped up and he gestured around them, rubbing the back of his neck with a free hand. “It will no doubt take me some time to get to grips with all your changes. My files, I assume you have placed them somewhere – ah, there they are!”

He pulled open one of his desk drawers and saw several files within. Each was labelled contracts – signed. He flicked through them absently, wondering at how she had managed to be so thorough in such a short time.

“It is rather impressive to see what you can accomplish when you set your mind to it.” He replaced the file in the drawer, noticing the way Andrea leaned forward as though to check he had done it right. “Do not worry, dear Duchess. I am perfectly capable of maintaining an organisational system.”

“If you say so.” She folded her arms across her chest.

He tilted his head towards her. “You sound sceptical.”

“I am. I have seen your accounts. It is practically criminal how you have mismanaged your estate.” She shook her head. “Well not criminal, but a shame. Your carefree attitude may work on tavern beauties but it is a ridiculous way to run a duchy.”

He stiffened slightly, but kept his mouth shut. “I have not been carefree with my running of the estate.”

She snorted. “Perhaps not, but you have so much wasted potential.”

“Such as?” he leaned back, watching her face, there was something odd in her expression that he could not quite place.

It was not hostility, not fear. Or at least not quite. He sensed she was looking for a fight, but that was not everything. He remained silent, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Andrea strode to the desk, flung open the drawer and pulled several folders onto the surface. “You really ought to rotate the crops on the McGregor’s farm. The Danver sheep are an old breed, you would do better to get in some others for they produce a more sought after wool.”

Frederick watched her, frowning as he listened to her explain. “It seems you did more than just organise my files.”

“I needed to know what was in them if I was to organise them properly.” She replied.

“Of course.” Frederick inclined his head, his lips pursed as he watched her study the paper before her.

Andrea’s brow was furrowed, a lock of hair falling in front of her face as she read through the documents in front of her. Frederick almost reached to tuck it behind her ear. He swallowed and hastily clasped his hands behind his back. He leaned forwards, the smell of her perfume filling the space between them.

Forcing himself to focus, he placed a finger on one line of the paper, reaching across Andrea to do so. “I have been trying to get the Danver’s to change their livestock for half a decade, but I find most Lords seem reluctant to part with their own sheep.”

She nodded, seemingly unaware of their proximity. “Marquess Brentwell has hit a spot of financial difficulty, he would be a good person to contact about it.”

“And how do you know that?” Is there anything she does not know? Frederick took a step back, he needed to think clearly and the smell of his wife’s perfume did not lend itself to that.

He perched on the end of the desk, angling himself so he could still see what she was looking at but keep his distance from her.

“His wife came to me for a loan a few weeks ago.” She scratched the bridge of her nose, her eyes still scanning the folders. “If you raised the rents on some of the tenant farmers, that would pay for improvements to the roads and cottages.”

“They would be more amenable to the raise if they could see how it would directly benefit them.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Though I would need to make sure the rent was not raised too high, they have been good tenants and I would hate to lose them.”

“With some modern farming techniques, you could greatly increase the yield of your lands, which would help them meet the increased costs.” Andrea nodded.

His eyes widened and he leaned forwards, ideas tumbling to the forefront of his mind. “It would mean we could apply to the bank for a loan and fix the old mill.”

“The plans are in the bottom left drawer.” Andrea gestured to it while she continued to read the papers in front of her.

Frederick reached over and pulled the plans from the drawer, his own excitement getting the better of him. “We might even be able to revitalise the orchards and the cider press. Yes… I think this could really work.”

“You would not even need a loan if you-” Andrea cut herself off sharply, looking up at him.

Frederick frowned at her. “Go on.”

“What are you doing?” Her eyes narrowed at him, and she straightened.

“What do you mean?” He could see an almost expectant look on her face, a tension in her jaw.

She had a hand on the papers, her lips pursed and jaw tense. “I mean, you are not offended?”

“Am I supposed to be?” He furrowed his brow, a half-smile tugging at his mouth.

“Yes, I mean no. I mean…” she flushed a deep red and Frederick had the sneaking suspicion that she had been expecting some kind of angry outburst. It made his heart twist.

He felt as though he were walking on the edge of a sword as she surveyed him as though she had never seen him before that moment. He spread his arms wide, keeping his shoulders down through sheer force of will.

After a moment, she said, “I have not seen you like this before.”

Frederick swallowed, the hair on his body suddenly standing on end. “Like what?”

“Excited. Sharp. Ambitious even.” She gestured to him. Was that admiration in her tone?

He felt a warmth spread over him and moved towards the papers on the desk, gesturing to them. “It is hard not to be excited. What you are proposing could ensure the duchy is prosperous for years to come.”

“I thought you did not take such things particularly seriously.” She moved to one side, letting him get a better view of the plans. “After all, only this morning you were talking of hiding in trees.”

“Just because I do not actively seek out mundanity does not mean I shirk my duties.” He cricked his neck, massaging a knot that had formed in the muscles. “I have learned, keeping men waiting often means they are more likely to take you less seriously. The less seriously they take you, the easier it is to surprise them.”

Her eyes widened, and she drummed her fingers on the desk. “You lull them into a false sense of security.”

“I just seek the path of least resistance.” He gave her a self-depricating smile. “You make me sound much more competent than I am, especially when you have seen the state of my accounts.”

He continued before she could say another thing. “Besides, your ideas are sound. I would need to talk to my solicitor to see about moving forward with some of these proposals, and it may be best for you to reach out to the Marquess’s wife about the sheep. Men like him can be rather prickly if they think such business offers are charity.”

“You mean to take my advice then?” Her fingers stopped tapping on the table.

“Of course I do. If you have any other suggestions, I would welcome them.” He looked up to see her frowning at him.

“You are not angry?”

“Why would I be?”

“I have rearranged your study.”

“You yourself said it was chaos, and now it is not. I can hardly fault you for doing a good job. Even if your intentions were less than pure, it seems you cannot help but do things well.” He gave her a meaningful look.

She flushed a deep scarlet—though whether it was at him correctly guessing her motivation or because he had paid her a compliment, Frederick could not be sure. He smiled at her, trying to inject as much warmth into it as possible.

“I am unlikely to be angered by sound advice and helpful actions.” He gestured around them. “If you had been born a man, with a mind like yours, there is nothing you would not have accomplished. To be honest, I suspect there is very little you could not do regardless of your sex.”

“I… Thank you.” She could not quite meet his gaze.

“It is my pleasure. Truly, what you have done here. It is magnificent. You are magnificent.” He had taken her hand in his without thinking, gesturing to the study around them.

Her skin was soft against his, the warmth of her touch spread through him like fire, but he was distracted from it by his own thoughts. “We could be quite the partnership I think. You clearly have a mind for business. I shall have to get you to look at some plans of mine for investments on the continent. And perhaps you would turn your hand to reorganising the Western Library, though you may need some assistance with movement of the furniture in that room.”

As he rattled off projects, his excitement grew. Things started slipping into place in his mind, the possibilities seemed endless. It was only when he felt Andrea’s hand slip from his own that he noticed his wife had grown very still. He faltered, his heart skittering to halt within him. “Only if you would like to engage in such projects, of course.”

He saw her bottom lip tremble, and he hesitated. “Andrea?”

“I… I will think on it.” She looked away from him and glanced at the grandfather clock. “I should get changed, I would not wish to keep you waiting for dinner.”

“Oh.” He felt a tug in his chest, and took a step towards her.

She stepped away from him and he froze. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him and she shook her head. “I… Perhaps I will take dinner in my room. I am suddenly feeling… Yes… Dinner in my room.”

“Did you hurt yourself?” He moved towards her, looking her up and down for a sign of injury. “That desk is remarkably heavy, if you need, I shall send for a physician.”

His heart hammered against his ribs, but she gave him a weak smile and stepped away. “That will not be necessary. I just… A night of rest and I will be right as rain.”

“If you are certain…”

“Quite certain, thank you.” She turned from him and practically fled.

He clenched his hand into a fist. “Idiot man. You always do this.”

He had scared her. Fool that he was, he had scared her with his excitement. He sagged against the wall, and let out a frustrated growl.

“You could not have just told her she did a good job and leave it at that, could you Frederick? You had to go too far and ruin everything.” He exhaled sharply. “I should have just kept my distance.”

He glanced at the portrait of his grandfather. For once, he welcomed the reproachful glower.