AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“How glad I am to have found you again,” said Amelia, the fury in her eyes belying her sweet tone of voice. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to watch you the whole time, dear, but Scarbrough stole me away.” She smiled her most patronizing smile. “Such a shame, for I know how very hard you practiced it.”
Victoria’s hackles rose. How dare she? “Quite all right, sister dear,” she replied with exaggerated cheer. “Withy made certain I was well cared for in your absence. We took a lovely walk. In the gardens.”
At her side Withington choked on an inhalation and began to cough.
Amelia pounced. “Goodness me! Are you quite well, my lord?” She moved close to peer into his reddening face. Too close.
He nodded, rasping a barely discernible yes.
“Poor thing!” tutted Amelia. “Perhaps you ought to sit for a moment and rest.” Without waiting for his assent, she appropriated his arm. “Why don’t we get away from this crush?” She walked away, leaving him no choice but to come along or disengage—which no gentleman would do, of course.
Watching them, Victoria shook her head. Amelia was so predictable.
“That was…interesting,” murmured Cavendish from behind, making her yelp in surprise. “Is Lady Amelia always so forceful?”
Damn and blast! Her stomach twisted as she realized he had seen the entire interplay. “My sister seems to have taken a liking to Lord Withington,” she replied with reluctance. “I’m afraid she does have a tendency to be very direct in her approach.”
“Well, if the liking is mutual, perhaps he’ll finally settle down.”
If only. “Amelia is a bit unconventional. Sometimes she intimidates people with her abrupt manner, but she’s really quite tenderhearted, and very intel—”
“I’ve already said I’m not interested in your sister.”
His eyes were merry, but his voice was firm, and again Victoria felt the strange pull down in her belly.
He held out his hand. “Come. I want to show you something.”
Heart in her throat, she allowed him to lead her out of the ballroom. Her excitement was completely legitimate, of course. Her plan was working. Well, part of it, at any rate.
No need for worry, she told herself as they entered a quiet hallway lined with portraits. The instant Amelia sees Cavendish’s interest in me, she will leave off her pursuit of Withington and start chasing him instead.
At the very end of the passage, he stopped at a small wooden door and opened it.
She was enveloped by a rush of warm, earthy-smelling air as she stepped over the threshold into a moonlit wonderland. The space was full of exotic flowers, their colors muted in the silvery light. The tinkling sound of falling water greeted her ears, and sweet, pungent aromas mingled in a veritable Garden of Eden. “What is this place?”
“Our conservatory. Years ago, I converted the old solarium to further my study of botany. My mother supervised its upkeep while I was away. I was very surprised by how well she maintained it. I admit that I half expected to come home and find it turned into a conventional hothouse filled with cucumbers and tomatoes.”
“It’s beautiful.” She touched a velvety petal with reverence. “Did you say you studied botany?”
“You sound so very shocked,” he laughed. “But yes, it’s true. I find flowers fascinating for their beauty and endless variety. There seems to be no end of either. New blooms are discovered every day.”
She almost snorted in disbelief. He certainly didn’t look like any botanist she’d ever seen—and she’d seen quite a few, thanks to Papa. He was of the opinion that her sister preferred bookish men; thus, he’d trotted every “scientific-minded” gentleman in England through their parlor in an effort to tempt her into matrimony.
With the exception of this one. Certainly she would never have guessed that a man like him would enjoy such a hobby. “How did you become interested?” she asked as she ran a gentle finger along the edge of a leaf—a Trillium grandiflorum from the Colonies, or so said the plaque beneath it.
“During a childhood visit to the home of one of my father’s friends, I was shown an orchid,” he answered. “It looked unearthly, as if it didn’t quite belong in the mortal realm. I asked the man where it had come from and he told me it was from the far-off jungles of India.” He smiled softly. “He gave me a small plant for my own, told me how to care for it, and I became obsessed. As an adult, I traveled all over Asia and Africa collecting different varieties. These are only some of the ones I brought back. King George has a great many of them in his conservatory.”
That explains why he is so…robust. She’d heard tales of the extreme climates, savage natives, and virulent diseases in the uncivilized corners of the world. Any man who tramped all over such places looking for plants had to be strong in order to survive. “I imagine you’ve seen more in your lifetime than I should ever see in mine,” she said softly, trailing her fingers in the pool beneath the fountain.
“You make me sound so old,” he said in a wounded tone, laughing. “But I’m not done living just yet, madam. I can assure you that I’m still quite spry.”
Of that she had no doubt. Again, she found his nearness disturbing. Under the pretense of wishing to study a creeping vine laden with white flowers, she moved farther down the aisle. While breathing in the heady scent of the starlike blooms, she read the plaque below: Jasminum sambac, Burma.
Burma. It might as well have said the moon. The farthest she’d ever gone was Bath. She felt Cavendish’s approach and shivered as he came beside her.
After a moment, he took the stem from her trembling fingers. “Please forgive me, Lady Victoria. If you are uncomfortable, we will return to the ballroom immediately. I thought only to share this place with you, since you seemed to dislike the noise and crowding as much as I.”
She laughed, and it came out sounding as weak as her knees felt at the moment. “I’m not afraid of you, my lord. It’s just that I’m not often alone in the company of any man, with the exception of Papa. I thank you for sharing your sanctuary with me; it is truly a marvel.”
