Page 42 of His Duchess' Mischief

It had all happened following a particularly dark night, shortly after his father’s death.

Seth had been in a whirl of anger and guilt. A mixture of sorrow at Gordon’s absence and the recent loss of his father found him halfway into a bottle of whiskey in the dead of night during a terrible storm.

He had thrown his glass into the fireplace and driven his fist into the wall to fight the despair that threatened to overtake him, but it was to no avail.

In the end, in his drunken state, he decided to go out into the storm, hoping the wind might carry him away into the sky, and with it the troubles in his life.

He ventured into the gardens, soaked to the skin in seconds, shouting into the storm and screaming at the lightning until a silhouette on the ground caught his eye.

Striding over to it, he discovered a spade left in a flowerbed beside the house.

Grabbing it, he began to dig viciously and angrily. What he had been diggingfor,he still did not know. It had continued for a long while until he was a sweaty mess, too exhausted to continue.

When Langham arrived the next day, it was the first time Seth had ever seen a servant truly furious with him.

His gardener attempted to keep some level of decorum, but the withering fury in his tone could not be mistaken.

The devastation Seth had wrought was far more severe in the light of day. Many bushes were overturned, there were holes several feet deep in all of the beds, and soil covered the pathways on all sides in a compacted layer.

Langham’s fists were clenched so hard, his jaw so tight, that Seth believed he might have an apoplexy.

Not wishing to lose a loyal and gifted servant, Seth apologized and, much to Langham’s dismay, insisted on helping to fix the damage.

Seth smiled at the memory, certain that if Langham had ordered him never to set foot in his garden again, he would not have objected.

Instead, after the anger and fury of the night, he had found solace in the monotonous task of digging the beds and turningover the soil. It had helped to clear his mind, and Langham had even taught him how to cultivate the natural world around him.

By and by, Seth had begun to add his own flair to the gardens. Whenever he was unhappy or fighting against the guilt in his heart, he would find himself outside, bothering his faithful gardener.

Langham started to recognize the signs, and when Seth had come out that afternoon, he smirked when he saw a little crate of flowers ready for planting and some bulbs left for him.

No doubt, Langham knew that the stresses of a new wife might drive me to distraction.

His gaze turned to Alicia again as he planted the final bulb, surprised to find that he wanted to be closer to her.

He could not work out what she was up to, and he wanted to find out.

Rising to his feet, he grimaced at the ache in the small of his back and stretched his arms above his head. Then, bending down to retrieve the tray of flowering plants Langham had left for him, he walked toward her.

She was weeding the bed she was kneeling beside.

He stopped, not wanting her to notice him just yet, running his eyes over the shapely curve of her back and down to the tiny feet poking out from beneath her.

Swallowing down the desire that roared within him, Seth shifted the crate and found that he was smiling.

As he watched her delicate fingers pull the weeds from the bed, she was joined by the robin who always frequented the garden at this time of year.

The fresh earth attracted him, and he and Seth had spent many mornings together. Seth enjoyed watching him flutter about, his carefree nature calming something inside him and giving him hope.

He would not tell Alicia that he had named the robinChristopher. It was foolish to name a wild bird, after all. She would doubtless think he had lost his mind.

Still, he watched Christopher peck about beside her, utterly unafraid. Seth was charmed by the image, gratitude forming at her presence in his life that was as unexpected as it was unwelcome.

As he stepped forward, she tensed and looked up as he walked around her.

Towering above her, looking down into that beautiful, upturned face, he felt a pulse of heat in his groin.

Why do I have such a fixation on having this woman on her knees before me?

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