thirty-four
Anthony had let Isabella rest for a couple of days while he’d taken care of his correspondence, met his steward, and assessed which works the house needed.
After breakfast, she usually sat slouched on a lounge chair in one of the many balconies, coughing in her fist, and looking as miserable as she’d been in London.
If she kept to herself and sat in a chair all day, Anthony feared her health wouldn’t improve. Although the kiss—the wonderful kiss they’d shared—made him hope for a change.
He smiled every time he thought about the kiss, especially since it’d been spontaneous and powerful.
He was looking at her from the window in the sunroom when Grandmama walked over to him.
“You ought to do something.” She pointed at Isabella. “Nothing has changed. Unless you act, she’ll do here what she did in London.”
“I don’t want to force her.”
“Not force her but encourage her. And enough working for you. You barely rested yourself. Go and spend some time with your wife.”
“You’re right.” He started to leave when Grandmama took his arm.
“I’m still angry with you for what you did. So take good care of her.”
He nodded and kissed her cheek.
He was still debating if he should tell her the truth or not, but Patrick wasn’t here to defend himself, and Isabella’s health was a priority.
The warm, scented air teased his senses when he stepped onto the balcony. Despite the warm weather, Isabella’s legs were covered by a quilt.
“Fancy a walk?” he asked.
“I’m too tired.” And pale. The sunlight didn’t prompt her to walk at all.
“You’re too tired because you’ve been sitting on a chair for days, thinking about how tired you are. We’ll take a slow walk with as many pauses as you like, and before you know it, your health is back. I want you to see all the flowers and plants here. This garden is bigger than it looks.”
A little smile graced her lips. She stood up and wrapped her arm around his.
“I’m sorry I had work to do in the past two days.”
“I needed the time to rest.”
He wasn’t sure about that.
He led her down a short flight of stone steps to the gravel path weaving through hedges, bushes, and flowerbeds with dozens of bees hovering around. In the background, the sound of the waves hitting the cliff resounded. No noises of carriages, no coal dust, and no grey sky.
She closed her eyes, tilting her head towards the sun. He spied on the gentle curve of her profile. When she opened her eyes and found him staring, she smiled, a bright, happy smile that lit her whole face.
They walked deeper into the garden to a remote part from where the house wasn’t visible. The garden had a terraced, hanging structure where the plants grew across different levels, like the hanging gardens of Babylon. Tall trees and hedges also blocked the sound of the sea. Looking up, a tall wall of plants towered over them.
“We’re alone in the world,” she said.
“I wouldn’t complain.”
“The flowers are stunning.” She paused next to a bush of peonies.
“Grandfather had a passion for flowers.” Speaking of his grandfather…Anthony glanced at the last flight of stairs heading to the lowest terrace. A hidden wrought-iron door concealed the entrance to Grandfather’s secret pleasure garden. If he wanted to show it to Isabella, he needed the key though. “Are you tired? Would you like to walk a little longer?”
“Yes. Where do you want to go?”
“Wait here a moment. I need to fetch something.” He kissed her on the lips, and she laughed. So he kissed her again. But he had to go. “I’ll be right back.”
