“You are utterly infuriating!” she scoffed and all but stomped away from him and the rosebushes.
But before she could get away, her husband called after her, “May I ask why exactly you are weeding my garden?”
“Well, someone ought to clean this garden up,” Violet said, gesturing to the overgrown weeds everywhere.
James cocked his head. “I have a gardener for that.”
“Yes, I just met him. And he told me that he is keeping a strict eye on the gardens—which I would have believed if they were not in such a poor state.”
“Ahh…” James sighed, and his expression became more serious. “It’s not what you think. I’m not a villainous tyrant of a duke who won’t let my kindly gardener tend to his flowers. It’s simply that the gardener is practically and cannot for the life of him manage to tend to the gardens by himself. I have offered him the opportunity to retire and a generous pension, but he is a proud man, and he insists that he cannot accept pay without work. And of course, I cannot dismiss him and hire a new gardener—it would break his heart. So I let him carry on here, thinking he’s gardening.”
“Well, that is… surprisingly generous,” Violet conceded.
His eyes snapped up to hers. “Is that a compliment I just heard from my wife? Does that mean you are no longer irritated with me?”
“Of course, I am still irritated with you,” she snapped. “Just because you do one kind thing for your gardener does not mean I have forgotten all your insults.”
“Perhaps you will forgive me once I tell you it has always been my dearest wish for my wife to revive these gardens and grow beautiful plants in them.”
“I suppose your wife must have something to grow if she cannot grow a child.”
James gave her a hard look, but she merely raised her eyebrows, as if challenging him to contradict her. He didn’t. Instead, he sighed and ran his free hand through his hair.
“These gardens were my mother’s dearest project,” he admitted. “She used to be out here often, making sure they were in order.”
If Violet wasn’t very much mistaken, she thought she detected a melancholic look on her husband’s face. James had never spoken of his mother before, but she pretended not to notice.
“And I suppose she never weeded?” she asked coolly. “She was above such endeavors?”
James laughed. “She did not weed, no. But I think she’d have admired your attempt to do so. She took a great interest in maintaining the estate. I’m afraid it has been in disrepair ever since her death. My father, of course, did not care for the gardens at all, and I have little time…”
“Well, you’re probably going to find my ideas for the garden wanting compared to hers,” she snapped.
Violet didn’t like the tone of his voice. It was surprisingly sincere, and it made her nervous. She suspected he was luring her into some sort of trap by getting her to lower her defenses and feel sorry for him. She wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Isn’t that the way with lords? You all find your wives wanting compared to your mothers?”
“I’m sure your ideas will be lovely.”
Again, it was such a moment of earnestness that Violet had the strong urge to change the subject.
“I ruined my dress.” She looked down at the yellow frock and sighed. “Poor Sarah—my lady’s maid. It’s going to take her ages to get the stains out.”
“Then just throw it out.”
Violet looked back up at James, startled. “But that is so… wasteful.”
“Usually, I am not the kind of person to be wasteful,” he explained, “but I also don’t like the idea of your lady’s maid working overtime simply because you were trying to improve my home.Ourhome.”
Violet’s heart thudded loudly and painfully in her chest.Our home.All of a sudden, she felt overly conscious of how terrible she looked. How her hair was disheveled and her dress was dirty.
What must he think of me?
The feeling, however, only lasted a moment, as the next second, James was back to his usual teasing ways. He sighed as he looked her over, affecting the air of a benevolent savior.
“Although judging from the way you’ve defiled this dress, and the fact that you like to dress in maid’s rags, I suppose I should send you to the modiste to redo your entire wardrobe.” He smiled sardonically. “I can’t have people saying that the new Duchess of Attorton isn’t theheightof fashion.”
“I know how to dress myself as befits a duchess,” Violet said, defensive once again, although she wondered if she might not feel quite so defensive if he hadn’t just gone from sweet to sarcastic in two seconds.
