Page 80 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal

“No.” Arthur sat straight as if someone had jabbed him with a sharpened pencil. “He’s my dog. I don’t want him to leave.”

“Oh.” Candace wrinkled her brow and nodded as if considering. “I suppose the leash was a good idea, then.”

They sat for a moment while Arthur stared at his knees and contemplated this idea. James shot Candace a smile over his bent head, and she did her best to ignore the warmth in her stomach from his expression.

She glanced around the room to break eye contact. “Where is Seamus, anyway? Are you quite sure he isn’t swimming his way to France?”

“He’s in the sunroom. Mrs. Fitzgibbons says he shouldn’t be bounding about.” He sounded morose again.

James looked heavenward as if appealing for help. “You may go and get him, if you promise not to let him brush against Lady Candace’s skirts or otherwise bother her.”

Arthur had leapt from the sofa after the first phrase of his father’s statement. “I promise. He’ll behave.”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll lock him in the larder.”

“Yes, Father!” he called over his shoulder as he ran from the room.

Candace laughed as James shook his head and said, “He’ll be spoiled rotten if I don’t watch myself. Perhaps I should send him off to Eton.”

“He’s far too young. There’s plenty of time for schooling. Besides, he has tutors.”

“It’s not his intelligence I’m concerned about. It’s his ability to follow rules.”

She shrugged. “He seems very well behaved to me. My parents raised us much the same way. Except they were even more shocking, as they educated their daughters in the same manner as their sons.”

“Oh?”

“The same tutors taught us all at the same time.” She smiled in memory. “When someone asked him about it once, my father claimed it was less expensive that way.”

They both chuckled—her father had been of expansive means, and such a blunt statement regarding finances was contrary to societal manners.

“He sounds like an interesting man.”

“He was. More importantly, he was a good man, who wanted the best for all of his children.”

“I wish I could have known him.”

“He would have liked you, I think.” Her head tilted. “At the very least, he would approve of how you’re raising Arthur. It’s a gift to stay home with family and be educated in place, until such a time as one is ready to face the broader world.”

“You don’t think I’m...stunting him?” James drummed his fingers against the arm of the sofa as if nonchalant, but she heard the vulnerability in the question.

“Not at all. When I look at Arthur, I see a young boy who is secure—not just in his place in the world at large, but also secure in his place within your family. He’s intelligent, which presents a host of problems for you, but he’s kind, compassionate. He has a level of empathy that’s rare among boys his age; if you sent him off to boarding school right now, I’d be frightened that the bullies there would work to stomp it out. No—I think you’re doing the right thing keeping him here for now.”

Candace had been staring off through a window, deep in thought regarding the topic as she spoke. When her eyes returned to James, she was caught off guard by the concentrated expression on his face—one that she couldn’t quite define. He stared at her, the corner of his jaw working.

She tilted her head in silent question; he turned his attention to the doorway. The moment was gone.

“Thank you for saying that,” he said. “It’s difficult to always know the right thing to do where he’s concerned.”

“I think you’re doing marvelously.” She scrunched her nose. “I never understood the idea of shunting children off to the side, as if they were some sort of embarrassing mess upon the rug. What better place for a child to learn manners than at the dinner table with those who can emulate how to properly eat? What better place for a child to learn the management of a household or an estate, than at the shoulder of the person currently doing so? My mother taught me about being the lady of a house from day to day. I shudder to think of trying to learn such practical things from someone who’s never done them—or even worse, from a book.”

He smiled—something that looked to be half amusement, half admiration. “I thought you enjoyed books.”

“Don’t be purposefully obtuse—you know quite well what I mean.”

“Forgive me. I completely agree. My father sent me to Eton early—perhaps before I was ready, in retrospect. However, whenever I was home, he took me alongside him from dawn to dusk and taught me all I needed to know about the inheritance that would come to me once he passed. I hope I’ve done his legacy justice.”

“I don’t know anything about you that your father wouldn’t be proud of.” She made herself continue, even though she felt a slight flush color her cheeks. “You’re kind, intelligent, hard-working. You stood beside me during one of my darkest hours, when so many others turned their backs. That shows great integrity and loyalty, even though it might have come at a personal cost.”