Page 42 of Pride and Proposals


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“No, that is not so—” Wickham’s voice was losing some of its smoothness in the face of Elizabeth’s opposition, but he still managed to smile.

Elizabeth had never experienced an urge to strike another person, but she fantasized about giving Wickham a slap that would knock the smile from his face. Surely no one else had ever acquired so much in such an underserving a manner!

“The colonel paid you because he feared your presence in my life would cause me undue anxiety. I have no such qualms. You have already received far more from my family than you deserve. I will give you nothing more.”

Rage granted her energy as she turned on her heel, preparing to leave Wickham far behind. But he grabbed her wrist. “I would advise you to reconsider, Sister. You do not know what I am capable of when provoked!” His voice was no longer charming but rough and low.

A small part of Elizabeth’s mind warned her to beware of a man who was bigger and stronger, but she was too furious that he dared to threaten her. Wrenching her wrist from his grasp, she brought her other hand up and delivered a resounding smack across Wickham’s face.

While he was still holding his cheek in shock, she turned and ran up the path, not stopping until she was out of the park and on her own street.

***

The devastation was complete.

Elizabeth stared at the destruction, while next to her, Gibbs, the gardener, mournfully shook his head. The townhouse did not have the largest garden in London, certainly, but it was a good size for such a house. Like many, it was surrounded by walls on all sides.

Elizabeth had poured love and energy into the garden. Anticipating that she would one day be mistress of the house, Richard had given her free rein to design plantings and make alterations to the previously neglected plot of land. She had worked with Gibbs to shape the space into a refuge—a place where she could retreat to escape the frantic pace of city living.

And now it was destroyed.

During the previous night, someone had climbed the fence and proceeded to butcher the garden. Flower pots were overturned and broken. A trellis was torn down, the vines trampled underfoot. A whole row of rose bushes had been hacked off at the roots, while a small tree had lost most of its branches. Everywhere she looked, vines had been torn out by the roots, leaves had been cut from plants, and bushes had been stripped of branches. Not a single plant had been left unmolested.

Who would do such a thing?

Elizabeth blinked back tears. The garden had not been close to finished, nor had it been at its best in January, but it had always reminded her of Richard. He had listened attentively to her plans for the garden, although he could not have been very interested. They had spent some enchanting evenings on the bench in the center of the garden. Now she felt as if she had lost another link to his memory.

“I am so sorry, ma’am,” Gibbs said softly.

“I am sorry for you, Gibbs. All of your hard work destroyed through one malicious act. It is criminal!”

“I am sorry I didn’t hear nothing during the night. You know, my window on the third floor overlooks the garden—”

“You were asleep. No one posts someone to watch over a garden.” She stooped to pick up a crushed and broken leaf, which had somehow survived the autumn. “Such wanton destruction makes no sense.”

“No,” Gibbs murmured, running a gnarled hand over his chin. “I canna think of who would do such a thing.”

“Nor I.” Elizabeth’s eyes traveled over the grounds, determining if anything could be salvaged. “The destruction is so thorough. This is not some random act…It is almost … personal. Designed to cause distress and pain.”

As she said these words, Elizabeth recognized the truth in them. This was a message. But directed against whom? She could not imagine that Gibbs or any of her other staff had created such a vicious enemy. And they did not own the garden; she did. But how could she have engendered such animosity?

It made no sense.

Elizabeth sighed. “Well, see what plants you can rescue, and clear up what you cannot.” She regarded Gibbs’s wrinkled face and contemplated the work necessary to recreate the garden. “You should hire additional help, maybe that boy who helps out in the kitchen sometimes. Have Grayson make a list of the plants we need to replace. We must find a vendor. I suppose most planting must wait until spring.”

Gibbs scratched behind his ear. “Some we can grow from cuttings. Many of the best plantings started so.”

She patted his shoulder reassuringly. Those plants had been like his children. “I do not mind buying new if it is easier.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“And, Gibbs, do not work too hard. You are not as young as you once w

ere.”

He smiled, showing several missing teeth. “Yeah. But that’s true for all of us, ain’t it?”

Trust Gibbs to try to lighten her burden even under these circumstances. Elizabeth was still smiling at his rejoinder when she entered the house a moment later.

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