Read Online Alexandra by Lauren Royal, Devon Royal - Free Book Online
Authors: Lauren Royal, Devon Royal
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more. “That won’t be a problem. You’ll want to water very heavily, an entire day so the flow penetrates the soil to a goodly depth. Then repeat when the ground begins to dry. A week between sessions,” he decided, his brain racing as he formulated the plan. “We’ll run a pipeline along the top of the slope with caps every few feet. You—or your people,” he amended, watching Griffin’s face, “will cap and uncap different sections every day, so by the end of the week the entire vineyard has been deeply watered. Then begin again where you started.”
“Where was this intellectual capacity when we were trying to figure a way out of our third floor rooms at Eton?” Griffin shook his head in undisguised awe. “For how long must the irrigation continue?”
“I’m not sure. A few months, if you’re asking me to guess. You’ll have to keep checking. When the taproots have reached three feet or so, you’ll shut off the pump.” Pleased with the plan, Tristan nodded to himself. “I’ll stay until it’s all in place.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Griffin rushed to assure him. “If you explain how to build the pump—”
“I don’t believe I can. It looks like a simple enough design, but the parts must be adjusted perfectly. The first pump I built was a colossal headache. I’ve thought of a better design since then, so I believe this one will be easier, but for someone unfamiliar with the basic concept—”
“How long will it take to set this up?” Griffin didn’t sound happy. “Run the pipeline? Build the pump?”
Tristan hesitated, knowing Griffin’s real question was the one left unstated: How long will you be here tormenting my sister?
Old friends or not, Griffin didn’t really want him around.
But Tristan wanted to stay and help. He wanted to make up for last night’s folly. He wanted Griffin to have the satisfaction of making a success of his brother’s failure. And he wanted to prove he was worthy of Griffin’s extraordinary loyalty.
“It depends,” he answered slowly. “Have you a foundry nearby to cast the pump’s parts from my drawings?”
“Yes.”
“A cooperative foundry, willing to drop everything at your request to take on this project?”
“I’m the marquess,” Griffin said dryly.
“There is that.” Tristan had learned he had power as a marquess as well, regardless of his state of disgrace. “Will you hire a goodly sized crew to construct the pipeline?”
“Of course.”
“A week, then. We can have this in place in a week.”
“I suspect it will take longer, but even a week isn’t insubstantial.” Griffin measured him a moment. “You’d take a week out of your life to build a pump and run pipeline that will be used a scant few months? Knowing it may not even achieve the desired results?”
“Do you want to save your brother’s grapevines or not?”
Griffin hesitated only a beat. “I want to save them.”
“Then we’ll do what needs to be done.” Tristan knelt to reseat the vine and pat the soil into place around the roots. “I’ll draw up the pump design today, then return here tomorrow to take measurements.” He climbed back up on his black horse, holding the reins with muddy fingers. “And choose a spot to site the pump.”
“Thank you,” Griffin said.
Tristan gave a deceptively casual shrug. “This is what friends are for.”
ELEVEN
“LADY ST. Quentin,” Alexandra said that afternoon in the drawing room, adding the name to their guest list in her careful, tutored script. “We cannot forget her .”
“I’d like to forget her.” Corinna stood and stretched and, leaving her easel, wandered over to where Alexandra sat at their mother’s pretty rosewood writing desk. “She’s a busybody.”
Seated on one of the blue sofas, Juliana looked up from the menu she was creating. “Do you think we should serve beef or lamb?”
“Both.” Corinna peered over Alexandra’s shoulder. “Holy Hannah, how did this list get
“Where was this intellectual capacity when we were trying to figure a way out of our third floor rooms at Eton?” Griffin shook his head in undisguised awe. “For how long must the irrigation continue?”
“I’m not sure. A few months, if you’re asking me to guess. You’ll have to keep checking. When the taproots have reached three feet or so, you’ll shut off the pump.” Pleased with the plan, Tristan nodded to himself. “I’ll stay until it’s all in place.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Griffin rushed to assure him. “If you explain how to build the pump—”
“I don’t believe I can. It looks like a simple enough design, but the parts must be adjusted perfectly. The first pump I built was a colossal headache. I’ve thought of a better design since then, so I believe this one will be easier, but for someone unfamiliar with the basic concept—”
“How long will it take to set this up?” Griffin didn’t sound happy. “Run the pipeline? Build the pump?”
Tristan hesitated, knowing Griffin’s real question was the one left unstated: How long will you be here tormenting my sister?
Old friends or not, Griffin didn’t really want him around.
But Tristan wanted to stay and help. He wanted to make up for last night’s folly. He wanted Griffin to have the satisfaction of making a success of his brother’s failure. And he wanted to prove he was worthy of Griffin’s extraordinary loyalty.
“It depends,” he answered slowly. “Have you a foundry nearby to cast the pump’s parts from my drawings?”
“Yes.”
“A cooperative foundry, willing to drop everything at your request to take on this project?”
“I’m the marquess,” Griffin said dryly.
“There is that.” Tristan had learned he had power as a marquess as well, regardless of his state of disgrace. “Will you hire a goodly sized crew to construct the pipeline?”
“Of course.”
“A week, then. We can have this in place in a week.”
“I suspect it will take longer, but even a week isn’t insubstantial.” Griffin measured him a moment. “You’d take a week out of your life to build a pump and run pipeline that will be used a scant few months? Knowing it may not even achieve the desired results?”
“Do you want to save your brother’s grapevines or not?”
Griffin hesitated only a beat. “I want to save them.”
“Then we’ll do what needs to be done.” Tristan knelt to reseat the vine and pat the soil into place around the roots. “I’ll draw up the pump design today, then return here tomorrow to take measurements.” He climbed back up on his black horse, holding the reins with muddy fingers. “And choose a spot to site the pump.”
“Thank you,” Griffin said.
Tristan gave a deceptively casual shrug. “This is what friends are for.”
ELEVEN
“LADY ST. Quentin,” Alexandra said that afternoon in the drawing room, adding the name to their guest list in her careful, tutored script. “We cannot forget her .”
“I’d like to forget her.” Corinna stood and stretched and, leaving her easel, wandered over to where Alexandra sat at their mother’s pretty rosewood writing desk. “She’s a busybody.”
Seated on one of the blue sofas, Juliana looked up from the menu she was creating. “Do you think we should serve beef or lamb?”
“Both.” Corinna peered over Alexandra’s shoulder. “Holy Hannah, how did this list get
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