Page 19 of My Lord, My Rogue
“Yes. I should.” She left and turned back. “I am so nervous. My stomach is at sixes and sevens.”
“Lady Aster, you deserve happiness! I am sure he has his own case of butterflies!”
The thought made her laugh, and Honora relaxed as she left to meet him. She heard her father greet him and ask him to step into his study for a moment.What could Papa want to speak with Lord Willington about?
A few minutes later, Lord Willington joined her in the front entryway with her father behind him, making small talk for a few minutes. Honora caught herself staring at his wavy blond hair, the way it fell haphazardly about his face in a short style that drew attention to his warm brown eyes. He had always haunted her dreams, even in the worst of times. This was certainly a day she never thought would happen.
As if to tell her to stop staring at the man, Bridget arrived dressed in a light grey wool riding habit and matching pelisse, ready to go. Honora wished she could be alone with Benjamin, except that would only add to an already battered reputation, should anyone come upon them. She was fortunate her parents were here to visit and keep Oliver company.
“The weather is brisk. However, I think a ride and picnic could be a lot of fun. Stay warm and enjoy yourselves,” the earl said, giving her a small peck on her cheek. “Your mother and I shall keep Oliver occupied. Right now, he is in the barn with Randall and Riggs getting a lesson on milking the cow,” her father said as a smile curled the edges of his mouth.
“He should enjoy that immensely. My son enjoys learning all about animals.”
“True! It seems to have particular interest to Oliver and his puppy. I believe it is taking a long time for the milk to actually hit the bucket,” he laughed.
“I can imagine,” added Benjamin with a hearty laugh. “I recall learning that as a boy.”
He assisted Honora into her pelisse. “We shall be down near the lake that adjoins our properties, my lord, in case you need to reach us,” Benjamin offered before extending his arm. “We have a small greenhouse behind the lake on our side that has just been repaired, cleaned and readied for new plants. With the weather being on the chilly side, I thought we might picnic there. I have also installed a couple of benches. With the clear glass, we can look out at the weather and the lake without being at the mercy of the weather. I asked my staff to bring the basket of food there,” he spoke in an animated voice. “Are we ready?”
Ten minutes later, the three of them raced across the pastures. Honora looked back to check on Bridget, but the woman was doing fine. She had learned to ride years ago and was almost as able a horsewoman as Honora. She was giving them plenty of lead, which Honora appreciated. They rode for a while across her family’s grounds before turning toward his property. As they approached the lake, the party slowed and cantered over the bridge and followed a tree-lined road until it ended in an open grassy area. A large greenhouse stood on a small hill overlooking a sun-glistening pond, replete with white swans. They slowed and cantered to the front of the greenhouse where a post and water trough had been installed on the side for the horses.
“Oh, my . . .” The words faded on her lips when she looked around them. Nothing prepared her for what she saw. They had turned the greenhouse into a small glass palace for a princess. A rich green carpet covered the floor of the greenhouse and a table, complete with china and candles, sat alone, surrounded by a latticed wall, covered with ivy. She noticed they had placed a smaller table on the other side of the room for Bridget, separated by another latticed wall, giving her privacy to eat, and distance so that they could have some seclusion.
“It is not at all what I imagined,” she whispered. “You did this for me?”
He nodded. “I allowed Cook to direct this. I believe she enlisted help from our housekeeper, Mrs. O’Mara. This is more than even I imagined,” he confessed in an astonished voice. “The two of them had everyone working on it yesterday evening under threat of starvation.”
“This is so beautiful. It is the prettiest place I have seen in such a long time. Sitting here, surrounded by the lake with the sun shimmering off the water, it looks magical. I hardly think this is what Papa imagined when you said we would picnic in a greenhouse,” Honora laughed, suddenly feeling a little shy. “I confess it is not what I thought when you mentioned a picnic.” She looked up at him, mesmerized by the smile that radiated from his eyes and lit up his entire countenance. He did this for me.She still could not believe it.He is just what I needed in my life, if only . . . No. I cannot trust my ability to decide, not after the muck I have made of mine and Oliver’s life. I could never ruin another person’s life. Could Aunt Violet be right? Am I allowing fear to hold me back from love?
* * *
“Letme assist you both from your horses,” Benjamin said, lifting Honora from her horse. He turned to help Bridget, but the woman had already slid down from her horse and was brushing off her skirts. “Where did you learn to ride, Bridget? You seem a capable horsewoman.”
He would swear the woman blushed to her roots. “M’lord, Lady Honora and I have been together for many years. She taught me to ride.”
“You were very easy to teach, Bridget. Considering you had grown up on a farm, I have always believed you knew how already,” she laughed.
“Of course, you taught me, m’lady,” Bridget demurred with a shy smile.
“’Tis fine, Bridget. The opportunity to ride and be out of the house meant so much to me.”
Benjamin observed the exchange, aware that the woman had just been outed by her mistress and both were fine with it. Their easy friendship was palpable to anyone. Honora had been lucky to have this one by her side, he thought. “Bridget, I believe we have a special place for you, as well.” He escorted her to her table, which was a smaller replica of theirs, complete with china. The woman rubbed her hands to warm them before removing her outerwear and sitting down. A small basket lay beside her table.
He turned his attention to the other side of the greenhouse where Honora held up a plate, studying it.
“My goodness! This is your quality china! What a treat that you have arranged for us today,” she said, beaming with anticipation.
“I am sure the food will be every bit as good as the presentation.” He began sorting through the food items as he took his seat next to her at a beautifully appointed, intimate table. The table had a white cloth and a small vase of white roses as its centerpiece. Meats, cheeses, grapes, wine, and biscuits filled the basket. “I confess, I ate a pretty light breakfast and am looking forward to this.” He handed a white plate rimmed with gold edging to Honora and encouraged her to take her fill.
“I have never spent time in a greenhouse,” she said lightly, while selecting food for her plate. “I feel rather comfortable in here.”
“I feel sure you could pass as a lovely rose, Honora,” he blurted. He turned to look at the wall of ivy and lattice that separated them from where her maid was sitting, hoping she was otherwise occupied. Luckily, the woman was still sorting through her basket of food. He did not feel she heard his remark.
“Do not worry. Bridget will stay busy with her selection,” Honora offered, seeming to understand his discomfiture. She handed him a plate. “Your cook packed a good wine. Shall I pour a glass?”
He noticed she had taken her gloves off. “That would be nice. Thank you.” He waited for her to place the carafe down. “Let me offer a toast to a warm and wonderful lunch,” he said, stopping himself before he said anything more, hoping to keep things moving in the right direction.
She took a sip and placed the glass on the table. “I believe this has quite taken my breath away,” she responded with a slight tremble.
