Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Ugh!
“Did Chelsea know that?” I asked.
“Unlikely. She still wouldn’t care.”
God, that woman.
“So, obviously, Tempie gave them Thursday off to start to make up for it,” he went on. “And they won’t be back to work until Tuesday, in order to fully make up for it.”
“Oh, okay.”
“That means Tempie will probably head into the village to grab us a curry or hit the chippie for tonight, and it’ll be very casual until Tuesday. They’ll have left us some croissants or something for breakfast, but we’ll be eating out or getting takeaways for lunch and dinner.”
I turned to stare at him.
“There are some lovely restaurants around The Downs,” he said. “I thought tomorrow, you and I could go to a pub that has excellent steak dinners.”
“Battle, I can cook.”
“Sorry?”
I was trying hard not to bust out laughing.
“Honey, I know how to cook,” I repeated.
But the instant I called him honey, the atmosphere in the vehicle became, well…honeyed. Thick and oozing sweet.
I powered through that loveliness and went on, “I’ll take that steak dinner, but if Emily’s down with me using her kitchen, I can scramble some eggs and make toast and even pancakes or something. Definitely I could throw together some sandwiches or big salads for lunch. And I’ve got a full repertoire of dinner selections.”
He was suddenly frowning.
So I asked, “What?”
“Is this your attempt to pay me back?”
Jeez.
This guy.
“No, Battle, this is what normal people without cooks and butlers and housekeepers do. They make their own food. Anyway, not only do I love to cook, it’d be a dream to cook in Emily’s kitchen. It’s a chef’s kitchen, for one. But for another, I’m a history junkie. Cooking in a space that has fed countless dukes and duchesses, earls and countesses, barons and baronesses, etcetera, would be so fun.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes, Battle, I’m certain.”
“Not tonight, I’m looking forward to a curry, or fish and chips, or tomorrow, but you can have Sunday and Monday, if it’s your wish.”
“Awesome,” I replied, then asked, “So, Tempie manages the staff at The Downs?”
“Tempie manages The Downs.”
Interesting response.
“Is there a distinction?”
“No and yes. The no part being she does indeed manage the staff, insofar as they need managing, which they don’t. Fitzy and Patsy take care of everything, but they do report to Tempie. Tempie handles payroll. And manages the house books, alongside Fitzy. She also manages all the enterprises of The Downs.”
“The enterprises?”
He glanced at me. “We let some of our fields to adjacent farmers. She deals with that. However, The Downs for centuries has had a herd of Lincoln Longwool sheep. We raise them, sell the wool. Or the shepherds who Tempie hires raise them. We also own six attached buildings on the High Street in the village. We let the ground floors for shops and the upper floors as flats. Tempie manages those as well. The duchy further owns four cottages at the northernmost end of our property. They used to be tenant cottages. She manages those lets as well. The Downs is an income-producing property, and Tempie has responsibility for all of it. She’s essentially our steward.”
“She’s the steward?”
“Yes.”
“So she gets email sent to the steward?”
“I have a member of staff who vets any email coming into The Downs for such purposes, so she doesn’t have to wade through the chaff. But yes, if it’s actionable, she gets it.”
“So it was Tempie who forwarded my email to Prue,” I mumbled.
“I’m sorry?”
“That’s how I met Prue. I got my hands on the steward’s email and mine was forwarded to Prue.”
“Tempie probably knew she enjoyed your books.”
Undoubtedly.
This meant Tempie had a job, and it was a big one. Chassie used to have a flourishing flower shop, though now she managed the gardens, which were a project. She was out there every day, rain or shine. But Prue seemed to be a lady of leisure.
I’d never asked, because I’d never dealt with people remotely like the Talyns.
Though, I would admit that I assumed all three of them just lived off The Downs and frittered away their days doing whatever.
“Are Scotty and Harry security?” I inquired.
“Of a sort,” Battle said. “I’m in London most of the time, and I do believe Fitzy can handle most anything. However, that big house, and all it contains, primarily its most precious things, my sisters and Fitzy and Patsy, when I’m away, I need to feel they’re all safe.”
Okay.
Yeah.
So overbearing and overprotective was a good thing.
He kept going.
“Scotty and Harry live in the steward’s cottage, a property we’d probably let if they didn’t. And no, we don’t need them around to serve. But yes, I do need men around simply to have men around, but also to make sure the pipes aren’t leaking, and if they are, to fix them. They’re both jacks-of-all-trades, but providing presence is one of those trades. Part of their regular duties is to patrol the property daily. It isn’t a fortress. We can get poachers. We can also get people who want to take pictures. And there’s always the threat of someone wanting to do something nefarious, even though I’ll stress that threat is very minimal. The people in the village know they’re right on hand, if needed. And anyone who might be watching would not miss two fit young men who can take care of themselves, and my family.”