The earl simply stood there, his wife's hand in his, and stared at the house and grounds.
"You've done very well," he said to Sophie, who didn't look like a waif today but was actually wearing a gown that Mrs. Plack had made for her. Her hair was a bit mussed because she'd been polishing the crystals on a chandelier in what she now thought of as her own room, which was set at the back of the house, its doors giving onto the garden.
"Hello," she said, then turned to Jeremy, holding open her arms. He limped to her and hugged her, saying as fast as he could talk, "It's wonderful, Sophie! Oh goodness, I've missed you. Look, Sinjun, just look at the stables, certainly big enough for George and—"
"Who's George?"
"My pony, he's a barb and all black with two white socks and fast as the wind, Sophie."
"As in the second George or the crazy third George?"
Douglas laughed. "Actually, this George is a tradesman in Hadleigh who bears a remarkable resemblance to Jeremy's pony."
Alex said, "You've done marvels. We were so shocked to hear about what that wretched Dubust had done."
"The furniture will be back in the next few days. Alas, I have only three chairs and one table downstairs."
"Perfectly adequate," the earl said, then frowned as he looked around. "Where's Ryder?"
"He's with some of the tenant farmers."
Douglas stared at her. "Tenant farmers." he repeated blankly. "What is he doing?"
"I think they're talking about crop rotation. Evidently Mr. Dubust was more than just a criminal. He wouldn't allow the farmers new implements and discouraged letting fields lie fallow as they must, you know."
"Yes," Douglas said slowly, "yes, I know. And Ryder is dealing with this?"
"Not only is he dealing with it, he quite likes it."
Sinjun said to her brother, "Can Jeremy and I go find Ryder? It is late, Douglas, and he should be finished with all his rotations soon now. Please?"
"Go along, brat."
"Walk north," Sophie called after them. "See the trail just by the stables?"
An hour later, Ryder, Jeremy, and Sinjun strolled into the drawing room that held only three chairs. Ryder walked over to his wife and kissed her. "Look who found me. And I wasn't even wearing my hobnails or my smock."
Sophie felt a deep surge of pleasure at the sight of him and could only nod.
Ryder grinned at her, and lightly caressed his knuckles over her cheek. "No, Douglas, don't say anything, if you please. Things change, all right? To show me proper respect, call me Master Ryder or Farmer Ryder. I begin to think that I must design a new plow, one with style, one that will be made by an artisan as famous as Hoby or Weston. What do you think?"
"I think you're mad, Ryder, utterly mad and very happy."
"And what do you think of our home?"
"That it is a home and you've made it thus in a very short time."
"I must give Sophie credit for accomplishing a bit, a very little bit, but I don't wish to make her feel useless."
Sophie squawked and flew at him. Ryder, laughing, his blue eyes as light as the afternoon sky, gathered her against him and held her and then swung her about.
The earl looked at his wife, who was smiling at them.
The Earl and Countess of Northcliffe didn't mind at all sleeping on piles of blankets in a guest room. Indeed, if Ryder were any expert on the matter, and he most assuredly was, he knew that his brother and sister-in-law quite enjoyed themselves. His brother was a man of a creative nature.
The earl and countess remained for only a day and a half, for they were on a visit to the Duke and Duchess of Portsmouth. As for Sinjun and Jeremy, they were to stay for a long visit. Sinjun's goal, she said, giggling, was to see Ryder in his farmer's smock.
Not an hour after the earl and countess had left, Sinjun found her brother in a rather ardent embrace with his wife. She cleared her throat. Ryder looked up and frowned at her. "Go away, Sinjun. You're only fifteen and you shouldn't be witnessing all this excess of affection."