"Well, then, I suppose we are on precisely the same page."  He pours himself a large goblet of strong red wine, and passes to her a bottle of a more delicate vintage almost without thought.  "I haven't the least idea of how to manage an estate, and so long as you're skilled in that art I see no reason to pretend I'm interested in learning.  I think we shall be the best of friends."  He takes a long pull of the wine and looks at her for what is really perhaps only the second time.  "I must admit to some confusion.  You are beautiful, intelligent, apparently skilled, wealthy, and highborn.  Have you the least idea why they betrothed you to me?"