“I understand,” Aoife said quickly. She did not want to be a nuisance and instead turned to leave.
“Can I pass on a message?” James offered, stopping her in her tracks.
“That would be kind of you. Let him know I’d like a word when it suits him,” she replied. “Nothing urgent.”
“Where should he find you?”
“Oh. I’ll be in the gardens for a while.” She paused. “On second thoughts. Don’t trouble him. I’ll try again later.”
James nodded once. “Very good.”
She watched him for a moment, uncertainty pricking at her. “Is that all right?”
His steady gaze met hers. “Of course, miss.”
Relieved, Aoife smiled faintly. “Thank you.”
James returned the nod, already stepping away. “Enjoy the gardens.”
Aoife found the gardener where she’d left him several days before, among the herb beds trimming dead leaves from a cluster of winterwort. The air smelled green and sharp, and alive. It was one of the few places on the estate that reminded her of home. She was hoping for a few more plants to add to her collection. She had an idea that might help the cook’s knees. The cook hadn’t exactly asked for her help, but she didn’t see the harm in mixing something up, just in case. And if she stopped moving, stopped helping, she was afraid of what she might feel.
“Did the tincture help?” she asked.
He straightened, wiping a hand across his brow. “Aye. Took the sting right out.” He flexed his hand and gave her a grateful nod. “You’ve the knack for it.”
Aoife smiled. “I’m glad.”
He reached into the herb bed, plucked a small bundle of leaves, and held them out to her. “For you. Tarrabeth, if you need more.”
They both froze at the unmistakable crunch of footsteps on gravel.
“Care to explain this?”
Lord Halverton emerged from between two hedges, coat immaculate despite the walk, a folded paper clenched in his hand. His expression was carefully blank, which was worse than anger. The gardener straightened so fast that his knee cracked.
“My lord,” he said, dipping his head.
Halverton barely glanced at him before waving a hand at the man. The gardener didn’t need telling twice. He rushed out of there, offering Aoife a regretful parting look as he went.
“Explain this,” Halverton said again.
“What is it?” she asked, genuinely unsure.
He snapped the paper open and waved it sharply once. “You tell me.”
Aoife took a step closer. It was a brief message in a hand she didn’t recognise.
His lordship is requested to attend Miss Aoife in the gardens.
“I asked to speak with you, but I was told you were busy. I said I’d be in the gardens for a while, in case you wished to find me.” She shook her head, flustered. Had she not been clear when she told James not to trouble his lordship? How had this happened?
“You must understand,” he said calmly, refolding the paper with deliberate care, “that I do not take kindly to being directed. Particularly in my own house.”
“It was a misunderstanding,” Aoife said quickly. “I apologise.”
He regarded her for a long moment. Then his expression softened, the tension easing as though he’d chosen to be magnanimous.
“Let me be clear,” he continued lightly. “If you wish to speak with me, you will wait until you are invited. You will not set times or places.”
