The steward chuckled. “I don’t think that would be wise.”
Irritation simmered under Winston’s skin and had him drawing a calming breath. In truth, he’d studied the options at length in several books and recent news articles. He agreed with Jenkins in that he didn’t expect wheat prices to increase. It had proven impossible to compete with the Americans on wheat or corn, but there were other crops that could be profitable.
Winston cleared his throat. “Why is that?”
“It simply isn’t done. No one else is raising such crops with any measure of success.” The man shook his head, a condescending smile on his face. “Might I suggest you leave such matters to me, my lord? You may remember me mentioning that your father didn’t have a head for business either.”
Uncertainty rolled through Winston, smothering the irritation, and stealing his confidence. “Yes, you have. On several occasions, in fact.” Defeat weighed on him. Reading a few books didn’t make him an expert by any means. Why did he bother to try?
Jenkins pushed back from his desk as if to signal the meeting was at end. “We will need to tighten down on expenses and perhaps increase rents. That should be enough to weather the storm.”
“How will the tenants pay more rent if they’re making less from the land?” Winston might not know much, but that sounded illogical even to him.
“Leave it to me. I will explain it to them in a way they can understand.” Jenkins stood, his tall frame and sturdy build lending weight to his reassurance.
Winston remained doubtful about the suggestion. However, doubt in himself and his abilities would not relinquish its grip so easily. Not after all these years.
“Very well.” Winston stood as well. “Keep me apprised.” As he walked out of the steward’s office, he couldn’t help feeling he’d made a terrible mistake. The man’s plan seemed fraught with challenges that would only increase as years passed. Now was the time for action.
But what if he was wrong?
His upset hadn’t eased by the time he returned home until the butler handed him a message. The neat, feminine script had his upset lifting.
He read the message and quickly penned a reply. Never had he looked forward to a musicale until now.
Lord and Lady Singleton’s red brick mansion in Marylebone was small compared to some, but elegant nonetheless. The white-shuttered windows of the main level glowed with welcome, candles lit in each one.
A liveried footman held the door for guests who streamed inside where they were greeted warmly by the hosts.
“Their home is lovely,” Prue whispered to Millie as she glanced around at the black and white tiled entrance floor with white columns and a curving staircase that led to the upper floors.
“Isn’t it? Lady Singleton is equally as lovely. She’s always so kind.” Nerves danced in Millie’s stomach as she searched the other guests for Winston’s tall form. “Thank you for accompanying me.”
“The pleasure is mine. It is nice to attend an event where we can relax and enjoy ourselves without worry over who is watching.”
Millie smothered a sigh, unable to agree when she was very worried about who might be observing her behavior this evening. She didn’t intend to behave but, with luck, no one would witness it.
She had attended several events, including musicales, at the Singleton residence and was familiar with the layout. A small sitting room located near the large music room would prove perfect for a few minutes alone with Winston if she could manage it.
After leaving their cloaks with a footman and speaking again briefly with their hosts, Millie and Prue went upstairs to the music room where chairs were placed in neat rows, and a piano, violin, and flute stood at the top of the room, awaiting the performers.
“Are the daughters talented?” Prue asked.
“They are. Both Violet and Astrid not only play well but have wonderful singing voices. Their cousin, Rose, normally joins them, and she is gifted, too.”
“Excellent.” Prue nodded. “Then we truly should be in for a nice evening.”
Millie didn’t answer for she saw Winston visiting on the other side of the room with another gentleman. Her heart leapt at thesight of him even though it shouldn’t come as a surprise, since he’d sent a message agreeing to attend.
However, her nerves continued as she pondered her options for time alone with Winston. In truth, she could only think of one—to slip into the sitting room after asking Winston to meet her there. It would have to wait until after the musicale, when everyone was visiting, but not too long after, when guests would be preparing to leave.
While Prue might guess what Millie was up to, she wouldn’t be pleased if Millie was gone long.
“Is that new?” Prue asked as she studied Millie’s gown.
“Oh, this?” Millie felt her face flush as she patted the rather daring neckline with a gloved hand. “Alice and I made a few adjustments.”
Her maid had suggested removing the lace and trim that lined the neck to make the gown look more provocative. Millie felt half-naked, but the neckline was modest compared to what some ladies wore. Would Winston even notice her attempt to be brazen?