For one thing, he was marvelously contented. His life followed the old routine to a large extent—he spent a few hours most days out on his land, sometimes in company with his steward, sometimes alone. His crops had grown into a ripple of green promise and the lambs were becoming small sheep and the sheep were looking as though they would soon be in dire need of shearing. He spent time in the office at the back of the house too since he liked to know exactly what was going on with his farms despite the fact that he had a competent, trustworthy steward. The difference was that all the time he was busy about his own business he knew that his wife was busy too in the performance of her duties as mistress of Penderris Hall, even though she admitted that the housekeeper and chef could function very well without her, not to mention the butler. Like him, though, she needed to know and understand the inner workings of her home, and she still maintained that the servants would despise her if she did not show an interest.
