“I suspect a new bride wants a home she can consider her own. Not a property allotted from her brother’s ducal holdings, but her own hearth and haven. You hold the deed to Crofton Ford outright, it’s comfortable and closer to York. If your bride’s charitable projects take her into the city with any frequency, Crofton Ford is the more convenient property.”

Nathaniel poured himself more wine. “Are you banishing me, Your Grace?” The question was offered with a smile.

“Yes, in a sense. I have put more demands on you than any brother in the history of brothers, and you have never failed me. Go forth and be happy, Nathaniel. Provide me with lots of little nieces and nephews I can spoil and tell tales about your wicked childhood. Have the life you were meant to have before you learned that I was moldering away among the lunatics.”

“Two days ago, you did not want to attend Lady Althea’s ball. Now you’re holding the door for me and wishing me off on my wedding journey.”

Oh, God, the wedding journey. “Have you made those arrangements yet?”

“Althea has only just agreed to be my wife.” Another smile, even more fatuous than the last. “The wedding journey hasn’t been a priority. She’d probably enjoy Paris.”

Paris wasn’t too far away, not as far away as Rome, Lisbon, or Greece, for example. “If you are leaving on that journey in a mere few weeks, you had best begin planning it. These mushrooms are actually quite good. How is that possible?”

Their cook, a venerable relic from the last century, had neither skill in the kitchen nor any ambition to acquire same, but he’d never betrayed the family’s privacy outside the estate. That had mattered more than fancy dishes or an interesting selection of wines.

“Althea’s Monsieur Henri paid a call here yesterday,” Nathaniel said, “and I’m told some cooking and trading of recipes was involved by way of professional recreation.”

“Our staff is receiving callers now, Nathaniel?” For years, the house staff had rarely so much as gone into the village for a pint, lest awkward questions be asked about the doings up at the Hall.

“We’ll be receiving callers here soon too,” Nathaniel said gently. “Althea will come by frequently and I daresay the vicar will be close on her heels. The floodgates will open after that, but I will be here to help manage the neighbors.”

Exactly what Robert did not want. “You will be planning your wedding journey. You will be wooing your bride. You will be taking her for a visit to Crofton Ford, because that will become her home. I must learn to manage the neighbors.”

Even saying the words held no appeal. Good God, going to divine services loomed as an ordeal though the church was not two miles away.