Fitz said, carting his sleeping daughter over his shoulder so he might offer an elbow to the woman who brightened his day, even when she was being contrary—which was pretty much most of the time, he acknowledged. “Quentin knows even less than I do about farming, and he trusts you.” “I can’t understand why,” she said a trifle peevishly. “I own a few acres I let out to a tenant, and I harvest a few crops. I’ve never had wealth, and I have no notion how to go about investing my inheritance in my farm, even if I could. Although Lady Belden is in no hurry to let me take charge of it so I might find out.” “Then at least let me thank you for respecting my judgment.” Fitz fought back a smile at her irritation. He was learning that she didn’t like being confused or uncertain, and he hoped he was the reason she was feeling unsettled. That would mean she had not entirely dismissed him as worthless. He was still miffed that she’d turned down his perfectly good marriage proposal, but it was early days yet, and even he had to admit that he had little to offer her.
