Page 28

“No, not yet,” Edwin confirmed. He staggered to his feet. “I was about to.”

Andrew stayed kneeling while Edwin left to fill up the watering can with water from a pump. By the time Edwin returned, Andrew had moved over to the far end of the conservatory. He was standing with his hands hooked behind his back, probably so that he wouldn’t inadvertently knock anything over. Edwin fought back a smile as a warm burst of sympathy swirled in his chest. Andrew was such a sweet man. But, God, was he clumsy.

Once Edwin was finished watering the purple coneflower plants, he joined Andrew near the sword ferns and parlor palms. The Whitney family had many of them, and Edwin had scattered them throughout the area of the conservatory that received the least amount of sunlight, in the corner farthest from the steam pipes, which stayed cooler, even on the days when the heat behaved a bit erratically.

“It’s like being in a forest,” Andrew said. “Especially over here.”

Edwin smiled a little. “Every corner of the conservatory has its own personality. I’ve been trying to keep certain plants confined to certain areas, based on the conditions they’re supposed to thrive in.” He pointed to the opposite corner, closer to the pipework. “I keep the orchids and begonias over there, for example, where it’s warmer, though I have to move them around to keep them out of direct sunlight. It stresses them out to be in it for too long.”

Andrew let out a breath through his nose, almost a laugh. Edwin’s small smile broadened as he crooked an eyebrow and wondered what Andrew found so funny.

“I find the, uhm, the summers stressful myself,” Andrew said. “That’s one reason why I like Albany, actually. It’s cool here most of the year. Not that I love the snow, exactly, though. Because I tend to, well, to fall in it.”

Edwin chuckled. “I’m not surprised.”

“No one who has spent more than twenty minutes with me would be.”

“Twenty? I thought it would have been more like five,” Edwin retorted through a laugh.

Andrew laughed, too, and his cheeks turned pink. “Yes, I think that’s probably more accurate.”

Andrew’s blush made Edwin’s stomach swoop, but the mildly pleasant sensation was immediately followed by a pang of unease.

Edwin knew he ought to leave. Trudge back home in the snow. Get away from the man who was making his stomach do these horrible, mildly pleasant things.

“Do you want to see how the blue orchid is doing?” he found himself asking instead.

God help him.

“Oh, yes, I’d love to!” Andrew replied. “I still feel so horrible about knocking it over.”

Edwin started over to the other end of the conservatory, and Andrew followed. Edwin picked up the medium-sized pot with the orchid. He’d chosen a pot that had previously belonged to one of the pea plants, as William had suggested. It had swirls of blue over the white porcelain, and even though the color wasn’t an exact match to the orchid’s petals, it complemented them perfectly.

“See?” Edwin said. “He’s fine. He’s a resilient little fellow.”

Andrew let out a long breath and closed his eyes, his relief practically palpable. Edwin tried not to think about how sweet it was as he placed the flower pot back on the little, round table.

After a moment of awkward silence—both men staring at the blue orchid without saying as much as one word—Andrew began walking toward the center of the conservatory, his footsteps slow and careful. Andrew’s eyes seemed to be moving from plant to plant, but lingering a while, as though he was trying to make sure he experienced each one of them properly.

“It really is magical in here,” he finally said. “Right outside, the wind is howling, and there’s a whole ton of snow falling, but here, it’s warm and peaceful, and we’re surrounded by such beautiful summery plants.” Spinning in a small circle, Andrew mouthed a silent “wow” as his eyes lit up with wonderment. “I wish I could photograph this—the contrast of the lush leaves with the snow right outside.”

Edwin’s heart stuttered. He’d love to see photographs of it. Even more, though, he’d love to watch Andrew take them. What a thing it had been to see Andrew transform from the nervous, unsteady man he always seemed to be into someone who had so much poise and focus.

“You could take some, if you really wanted,” Edwin suggested. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Andrew’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

Edwin only nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“I promise I’ll be careful,” Andrew reassured him. “I wouldn’t even have to set up as many of my things. William purchased me a whole package of special precoated plates. I haven’t tried them yet, but they’re supposed to require less exposure time, and I’ve heard they’re wonderful for outdoor scenes. Taking the photographs should be pretty fast, I think. I only have two plateholders, anyway. Still, though, two photographs of this lovely scene . . .” He let out a wistful sigh. “Oh, Edwin, I’d love it so much. You really wouldn’t mind?”

Edwin shook his head. He wouldn’t mind at all.

“Are you sure? I’d hate to be an inconvenience. You probably want to return home. Especially because of the storm. It seems like it won’t be letting up anytime soon.”

“I can stay a while,” Edwin said, even though he knew he should go.

For so many reasons, he should go.