Page 15 of Snowdrops and Winterberry
“I’m meaning to go with him,” Robbie said. “Two will make the task faster. And you needn’t worry that he’s being left to carry a burden alone simply because you are unwell.”
“Are you certain?” Lady Jonquil pressed.
Robbie nodded firmly. “We can make short work of the task.You, meanwhile, can rest until your husband is home.”
The poor lady sighed a little. “I am exceptionally tired.”
“Do rest, my lady,” Mr. Simpkin said. “Miss MacGregor and I can manage this task.”
With a nod, she agreed. She made her way toward the staircase and would, no doubt, retire to her bedchamber.
“You don’t think her feeling unwell is a sign of trouble with her condition, do you?” Mr. Simpkin asked. “I’d hate for that to happen to so kindhearted a lady.”
Robbie shook her head. “Many women feel poorly while awaiting an arrival. She still seems quite hale and hearty though. I ken she’s simply a little worn down today.”
“Then, I’m glad we can take this task off her mind.”
“I’m glad of it myself.”
It was an odd thing, having so friendly and agreeable a conversation with a man she’d only recently declared in need of watching. He was a confusion, and no denying.
“We’ll not be gone long,” he said, leading her to the waiting cart. “I believe we’ll find a stand of evergreens not far up the road. And I’ve seen a few different types of trees between here and Alnbury. We could use branches from those as well.”
They were quickly situated and on their way.
“Christmas must mean a whole heap to the little duke to be going to such trouble,” Mr. Simpkin said as he led the horse down the road.
“Whether or not the holy season matters to him,” Robbie said, feeling herself grow vexed on the instant, “that ‘little duke’ means a whole heap.”
Mr. Simpkin shook his head. “I wasn’t offering any insults, only an observation.”
Robbie couldn’t entirely sort him out. In some ways he very much re-minded her of the late duke, who had a tendency to grumble. And yet there was an openness to him that’d beenentirely lacking in Adam’s father.
“Boughs and wreaths were specifically asked for, I recall,” Mr. Simpkin said.
“Aye.” Robbie nodded. “Those were always present during Christmas at Falstone Castle.”
“Have you any objections to adding vases of flowers or trimmings made of flowers to our collection of evergreens?”
“I’ve not,” she said. “And His Grace won’t either.”
“I’d like to create a few things that Lady Jonquil will be pleased with, even outside of this Christmas celebration.” Mr. Simpkin guided the horse down a path leading in the direction of the nearby mountain. “And I know Lord Jonquil is fond of flowers. A great many early spring flowers have made their appearance. We can easily find hyacinths and tulips, and we have to include daffodils.”
Robbie was confused. “Why is that?”
“A jonquil is a variety of daffodil,” he said.
“Is it? I’d wager Lord Jonquil requested jonquils be planted in his garden.”
A note of pondering entered his expression. “He didn’t, actually. I wonder why that is.”
“Perhaps he’s nae thought of it,” Robbie said. “A shame, that. Daffodils are fitting, given the family surname, and they’re beautiful. They’d be lovely in any garden.”
“I have a brilliant idea,” Mr. Simpkin said, excitement touching his features. The eagerness softened his expression in a surprising way, and Robbie found she very much liked the sight of it. “If Lady Jonquil agrees, I could plant jonquil bulbs in the garden without telling her husband. Next spring, they’ll bloom and, I’d wager, prove a very pleasant surprise.”
It was, indeed, a brilliant idea. “I hope she agrees.”
“I’d wager she will.” Mr. Simpkin grinned. The man, grumpy and often off-putting, actually looked jovial. The way his facenaturally slipped into the lines of a smile told her he smiled far more often than their earliest encounter had indicated.
