Vane had discovered Richard's attempts in that direction-he'd told Devil and Gabriel.
The children were now in alt. They were getting riding lessons every day, sometimes twice a day, from their very own instructors, all ex-cavalry officers. Catriona had learned that last from a breathless Tom, later confirmed by Devil.
'I'm probably the strongest rider,' he'd said, 'but Demon's the best.' He'd glanced down at her and smiled. 'You haven't met him yet-he's Vane's brother.'
Catriona was quietly grateful Demon hadn't turned up at the manor, too-multiple Cynsters were a lot to get used to all at once.
But they were very good riders-and very good with children.
Slipping unobtrusively into the yard, she perched on the corner of the water trough in its center and watched the three groups into which they'd divided the children. The youngest were with Devil-totally unafraid of him-giggling and laughing as he patiently held them on and taught them how to sit, how to hold the reins. The next group in age, including young Tom, were with Vane, being coached in the rudiments of active riding. The last group, composed of the stablelads and young farmhands who could ride after a fashion but were definitely not up to the Cynster mark, were drilling under Gabriel's eagle eye.
Catriona watched for some time, trying to comprehend the rapport that seemed so effortless, between Cynster men and horses, and also small humans. In the end, she inwardly shrugged, smiled and accepted it-they were, transparently, naturals in both spheres-that was all there was to it.
And she, and all the vale, were going to miss them when they left.
Later that evening, Richard lay on a daybed in their bedchamber, ten feet away from the bed. That was the present limit of his strength, a fact he found disgusting. At least his witchy wife had let him get out of bed; he could now stand, but beyond a few paces, his strength seemed to fail.
Apparently delighted with his mild progress, and finally convinced the poison had departed his system for good, Catriona had brought him up a special herbal brew, guaranteed, so she'd said, to help him regain his strength. Nothing else, she declared, now stood between him and a full recovery.
And freedom. The wild expanse beyond their windows.
The potion tasted vile, but Richard doggedly sipped-and planned how to celebrate his vigor once it returned.
His musings were interrupted by Devil, who opened the door and strolled in, followed by Vane and Gabriel.
'While our wives and esteemed parent are busy hatching plans, we thought we'd come up and commiserate.' Devil grinned. 'How are you feeling?'
'Better.' Draining the last of the potion and swallowing it with a grimace, Richard realized that was true. He set the beaker aside. 'I suspect I'll have to endure a few more days, but…'
'Just make sure you recover fully,' Gabriel cautioned. 'Be damned if I'm riding this far north again if you suffer a relapse.'
Vane chuckled. 'Your wife seems convinced you'll be your old self any day, and I rather suspect she knows best.'
'Hmm.' Richard eyed them speculatively. 'Actually, I was just planning a little adventure, so to speak, to celebrate my return to the living.'
'Adventure?'
'How little?'
'What sort?'
Richard grinned. 'Nothing too outrageous, but we haven't had any serious excursions, not since Waterloo. I don't know about you, but two weeks in a bed has sharpened my appetite.'
'
Richard threw a cushion at him, which landed on target and made him feel much better. 'If you don't keep a civil tongue in your head, I won't tell you. I'll just ride off one morning and you'll have to wait until I get back.'
'Ride?'
'Where to?'
'I promise to be excessively civil.'
'Well…'-Richard pulled at his earlobe-'it so happens I'll need help for this venture-at least a couple more riders. If, of course, you think you can spare the time for a little lark before heading south to more civilized climes?'
Devil raised his brows in mock exasperation. 'Forget the jokes-what's the plan?'
'Catriona?'
Caught in the act of pushing away from the desk in her office, Catriona looked up. Devil stood in the doorway, with Vane just behind him. 'Is anything wrong?' she asked.
'No, no!' Devil entered; Vane followed. Devil smiled ingenuously. 'We just wondered if you could spare a few minutes to explain a few things to us.'
He wanted something; Catriona could tell by that smile. Calmly settling back in her chair, she waved them to the two chairs facing her. Melchett had just departed, having looked in to tell her all was on track for the spring plantings to be done as she'd directed. Upstairs, Richard was with Worboys, getting dressed for his first attempt at the stairs. Her world was serene, on course. And the two before her were now part of it. 'How can I help you?' she asked. 'Whatever it is, if it's in my power, naturally, you have only to ask.'
Devil's smile broadened. 'It's about the crop yields. Richard told me what you achieve here-'
'And Corby happened to mention the tonnage you clear from your orchards-and how old your trees are.' Vane raised his brows. 'Frankly, if I didn't know he wasn't lying, I'd have said he'd dreamed the figures up.'
Catriona smiled. 'We do very well, that's true.'
'Not very well,' Devil corrected her. 'Astonishingly well.' He met her gaze. 'We'd like to know how you manage it.'
Catriona held his gaze and swiftly considered her options. She had said she would give them anything in her power; there was no reason she couldn't answer their question. Her only worry was that they wouldn't believe her-or wouldn't have a sufficiently open mind to understand. Then again, they had come to her and asked. And, as one of The Lady's disciples, it behooved her to spread Her message as widely as she could.
Drawing a slow breath, she nodded. 'Very well. But you'll need to bear in mind that what I tell you is a… a philosophy rather than a prescription.' She glanced at Vane. 'So the answer is the same for both crops and orchards, indeed, for anything that grows. And the philosophy holds true for all arable lands, whether in the shadow of Merrick, or in Cambridgeshire, or in Kent.'
They both nodded. 'So…' Devil prompted.
'So,' she said, 'it's a question of balance.'
'Balance?'
'What you take out must be put back, if you wish to take out again.' Catriona leaned forward, resting her arms on the desk. 'Each patch of soil has certain characteristics, certain nutrients which allow it to bear crops of such and such a nature. Once the crop is grown, however, the nutrients used in the bearing are depleted in the soil. If the soil is continually planted, it will continue to deplete and bear poorer and poorer crops until it fails. Crop rotation helps, but even that does not return the nutrients to the soil. So if you want to continuously crop, and crop well, then you need to renew the soil, replace the nutrients used, after each cropping. That's the fundamental point-the need for balance-in and out.'
Vane was frowning. 'Just go back a minute. Do you mean that for each particular crop, in each particular field, you need to work out a… a…'
'An understanding of the balance of the nutrients involved?' Catriona nodded. 'Precisely.'
'This balance,' Devil leaned forward. 'How's it measured?'
They questioned her, and she answered and explained; Devil asked for paper and sketched some of his fields-Vane listed the fruits and nuts he grew. They discussed, and even argued, but not once did they doubt, or give any hint that they dismissed her guidance. Quite the opposite.
'I'll try it,' Devil declared, 'and you'll have to come and talk to my foremen when you visit.' He folded the sheet of paper on which he'd jotted notes. 'If we can achieve even half of what you do here, I'll die happy.'
