"Good man."
Nathaniel grunted.
Samuel's smile widened. "Very good man."
"You seem unusually invested in this conversation."
"I am." Samuel folded his arms. "Because I have not seen Miss Carter smile like that in months."
The statement should not have bothered Nathaniel. Yet somehow it did—more than it should have, far more.
Over the next several days, Charles became a frequent presence throughout the estate. Unlike many visiting gentlemen, he treated Genevieve as an equal: he asked her opinions, listened to her answers, and remembered details from previous conversations. More importantly, he openly respected her work.
Nathaniel witnessed the difference almost immediately during a luncheon on the manor terrace. One guest joked that Genevieve spent too much time worrying about agricultural reports.
Before she could respond, Charles smiled politely. "Considering those reports increased the estate's productivity by nearly fifteen percent, I would say the concern is justified."
Silence followed. The guest changed the subject. Genevieve looked genuinely surprised. Nathaniel noticed that, too.
Later that same afternoon, Charles accompanied Genevieve during an inspection of tenant cottages. Nathaniel happened to be repairing a gate nearby; their conversation drifted across the summer air.
"The roof repairs look excellent," Charles said.
"You remember the old condition?" Genevieve asked.
"I remember buckets catching rainwater."
She laughed softly. "That was awful."
"That was your improvement." Charles looked toward the cottages. "The tenants still talk about it."
Genevieve seemed uncomfortable with the praise. "Many people helped."
"You organized it." Charles smiled. "You should take credit occasionally."
Nathaniel tightened a bolt harder than necessary. The gate did nothing to deserve such treatment.
A few days later, another development complicated matters further: Genevieve began spending more time with Charles. Not excessive amounts, not enough to attract scandal—enough to attract attention. Nathaniel hated discovering that he noticed every instance: he noticed when Charles carried books for her; he noticed when they laughed together during dinner; he noticed when Genevieve appeared happier after speaking with him. Worst of all, he noticed that Charles seemed genuinely fond of her. There was nothing superficial about it: no hidden agenda, no pursuit of status; Charles simply appreciated Genevieve, which made Nathaniel's growing resentment feel remarkably unreasonable.
One evening, shortly before sunset, he found himself working alone near the orchard when Genevieve appeared carrying a basket of documents.
"There you are."
Nathaniel looked up. "Was someone searching for me?"