Page 16 of The Truth About Dukes
“I’ll await your orders, your ladyship.” He touched the brim of his cap and led the horse away.
The stable was in better condition than the Hall, the whitewashing fresh, the ground raked. Half barrels of heartsease sat on either side of the barn doors, and the earthy smell of equine wafted on the breeze.
“You will not stay here and sketch,” Althea said, taking Constance by the arm. “You do know if Quinn ever finds out that you ran away to elope with some man, and that man broke his word to you, Quinn will see the fellow held accountable?”
Perhaps for Althea to move twenty miles away was not entirely a bad thing. “Ancient history, Thea. I will say this once, and not speak of it again: I did not run away to elope with anybody. Nobody need be held accountable.” Not quite the truth, but as good as.
Althea remained silent all the way to a door set into a high wall at the back of Rothhaven Hall. “If you ever—”
“Cut line, Althea. It’s old business, and you are starting a new life. I am fine, I will be fine.”Finebeing a relative term.
“But, Con, I’ve been thinking, and—”
“Nothinking. My past is not yours to think about.” Constance shoved the door open harder than necessary and stepped through ahead of her sister. She stopped after two strides, Althea crowding her from behind.
“This is heaven,” Constance murmured. “This is absolute, perfect, eternal heaven.”
Before her stretched a sea of fragrant, bobbing flowers, mostly irises and tulips. Colors blended, white to pink to red to purple, and then a contrasting bed—vibrant yellow—drew the eye. Everything, from the height of the blooms to the planted patterns of the beds, showed a loving hand and a lively imagination given freedom to experiment and indulge.
A statue of Saint Valentine presided over the whole, with two stone Cupids shouldering ceramic clamshell birdbaths. White walkways of crushed shells brought more geometry and light into the garden, and old wooden benches added the perfect final touch.
I could be happy here.The thought was unexpected and far from rational, but it made Constance smile.I could be so happy here.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Althea said. “Nathaniel claims as the season progresses, the garden becomes spectacular. I cannot imagine anything more spectacular than this.”
Across the garden, Rothhaven stood on the terrace. He was bareheaded and coatless, his cuffs turned back at the wrists, his waistcoat of blue paisley another dash of color in this luscious retreat.
He waved. He did not smile—no grin, no flash of teeth—but his eyes, oh, his eyes…Even at this distance, Constance could tell he was pleased to see them.
Pleased to seeher. “The garden is impressive,” she said, moving forward so Althea could join her on the walk.But I see a sight more impressive than all these lovely flowers.
“Nathaniel informed me that I must expect callers,” Robert said, shrugging into his coat. “He did not warn me that you and Lady Althea would lead the procession today.”
Lady Constance had again dressed for comfort rather than to impress. She wore a plain rose walking dress, a discreet swath of purple velvet facing at the collar. The hem was decorated with a bit of purple and green stitchery, and the whole ensemble had not a single flounce or ruffle. Her shawl was a simple white crocheted affair, and on her head sat a plain straw hat with a wide, floppy brim.
“Why must you entertain callers?” Constance replied, taking his arm as Lady Althea went in search of her intended. “I want to bide endlessly in this garden. The fragrance alone…” She closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose. “You will be besieged with visitors once word of this garden reaches the village.”
This prospect apparently annoyed her. It moved Robert close to panic. “As long as you are among their number, I will bear up under the strain. Let’s gather a bouquet, shall we?”
“You needn’t be gallant with me, Your Grace. I will be more than content to sit out here and sketch.”
Robert leaned closer, as if old Saint Valentine might overhear. “I am not being gallant with you. I am sparing myself the torment of keeping company with the happy couple. They have lost all pretensions to decorum. The staff is in transports, and I alone am left to uphold the dignity of the house—of all the limitless ironies. The irises are coming in early this year, and I’m particularly impressed with some varieties I ordered from Antwerp last autumn.”
Lady Constance watched him as if he were speaking in a foreign language familiar to her and getting every fourth word wrong. He wondered if perhaps he’d had one of his spells, though usually when they struck, he could hear and see everything about him, he simply could not reply or move for a time.
“I am sure the irises are spectacular,” Lady Constance said, falling in step beside him. “So was my ire, when I beheld Rothhaven’s front drive. Such neglect will not do, Your Grace, unless you are determined to return to your reclusive eccentricities.”
“You were angry at a few weeds?”
“Weeds, ruts, the clogged drainage ditch, the flagstones cracking on the terrace. I understand your brother sought to guard you from an unkind world, but why not simply put a gate across the foot of the drive? You deserve a pleasant home, a place of refuge and repose, not some mausoleum for living ghosts.”
“You are annoyed onmybehalf?” He had to ask, because his dealings with women had been limited, his dealings with women of rank non-existent.
“Of course I was annoyed on your behalf. A gate isn’t that expensive, but instead Lord Nathaniel, light of Althea’s soul and gentleman without compare, decided to make a wreck of your ancestral seat. Stephen has a similar flair for drama. I suppose you can handle the grounds as you please now, but I do hope repairing the drive is near the top of your list.”
Repairing the drive hadn’t beenonhis list, mostly because he hadn’t got ’round to making a list. “You inspire me to rethink my plan.” They’d reached the irises, which had the most delicate fragrance, hardly a fragrance at all. Simply a sweet note on the air. Robert took out his penknife and sliced off a deep purple bloom about a foot below the flower. “Mind the petals don’t bleed on your dress.”
“Thank you.” Constance took off her gloves and accepted the flower. “I would like to put this in water so I can—”
