Page 25 of Earl for the Summer
She glanced back once as the group that now included Lady Selina’s intended made their way out of the Palm House. Once they were out of view, she turned back and nodded.
“I’d like that. I hear there are extraordinary camellias there.”
“They’re a favorite of mine.” Camellias were some of his most prized specimens back in his Scottish greenhouse. “You studied the plaques in the Palm House closely,” he said as they took to the broad gravel path in the opposite direction of the rest of Lord Knowles’s party. “Are you interested in botany?”
“Not so much botany, but horticulture. I love to grow plants. I grew up tending my family’s garden in Derbyshire, and it always felt a bit like magic to plant a seed the size of a pinhead and watch it flourish into something grand.” A little smile curved her lips.
“I feel the same.”
“Do you garden?” The notion seemed to surprise her.
“I do. Does that seem odd?”
“A little.” She studied his face a moment before looking ahead toward the Temperate House. “Yet again, you surprise me, my lord.”
“I have a greenhouse back home where I grow specimens I’ve collected from all parts of the world.”
“That sounds marvelous.” She arched brow as she looked over at him. “You’ve traveled a great deal?”
“I have. Over many years.” He wanted to confess why.
“Do you tend to the plants yourself?” she asked skeptically.
“Of course. There’s something terribly satisfying about sinking your hands into the earth, pruning a plant so it can flourish, or even tending it day after day, watching a bud form and then bloom.”
“It takes patience.”
“And a bit of hope.”
She laughed. “I have plenty of hope. It’s patience I struggle with.”
“Do you?” The confession surprised him.
He recalled her at the Harringtons’ dinner party, making conversation with even the most boring of lordlings and never revealing a bit of impatience at inane chatter about hounds and horses.
“It’s not something I admit to many people, and my family certainly doesn’t see me that way. I can be long-suffering when it’s required,” she admitted with a rueful grin.
He didn’t like the thought of her suffering. Ever. And he certainly never wanted to be the cause.
“There’s something I must say to you, Miss Bridewell.” Cassian looked around at those queuing to enter the Temperate House, longing for a private moment with her.
“I know today must have been a shock,” she said, her voice full of sympathy. “I should have warned you. I didn’t know how to say it.”
Of course. She would think he was bothered by Lady Selina’s engagement.
“She seems pleased with her choice.” Even with the guilt he felt over failing Julian, he couldn’t muster any genuine regret in his tone. “I can only wish them the best.”
She tipped her head and studied him. “I thought you harbored hopes of offering for her yourself.”
“No, I did not.” Bloody hell, this was a tangled mess. “Is there a place where we could speak privately?”
Her eyes widened as if it was the last thing she’d expected him to say.
Then their chance came to enter the Temperate House, and he escorted her into the balmy air inside the glass structure. The verdant smell of various flourishing greenery was almost as enticing as her floral scent.
For a while they merely proceeded along like the other visitors, appreciating the beautiful specimens from all over the globe.
When they reached the camellias, she turned to him with a beaming smile that made his pulse kick up. “They don’t disappoint. How lovely they are.”
