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“I see.” Part of her wanted to agree with Louisa. Another part wanted to tell Louisa to mind her business. Emma didn’t like Mr. Kingsley, but she also hated to see someone maligned for no good reason other than the status of his birth. She didn’t doubt he earned his reputation as a devil.
Glancing up at the clock, she smiled and stood. “Excuse me, Louisa. I promised Mr. Webb I would help him transplant a few shrubs in the greenhouse.”
Louisa waved her on. “Please take my words into consideration, Emma.”
“You have nothing to fear there. I don’t even like the man.”
Even if she still wanted to understand the enigma that was Simon Kingsley. She raced upstairs to change into some old clothes and had a devious thought. This would give her the ability to chat with him and discover more about him. She knocked on the door but took a quick step back when Mr. Kingsley opened his bedchamber door.
His blue eyes widened with shock and quickly sparkled in question. “What are you doing here, angel?”
“Put on some old clothes and met me in the greenhouse.” She fled the doorway and flew into her room to change. Needing to get there before he did, she ran to the greenhouse.
“Mr. Webb?” she called out as she pulled an apron from the hook.
“I’m by the rosa rubiginosa cuttings we took last fall.”
Emma stopped to remember what plant that was.
“The sweetbriar, Miss Emma,” he added.
“Thank you.” Seeing Mr. Kingsley cut a path across the gardens, she said, “I brought another helper.”
“Mrs. Raynerson?” Mr. Webb asked in a hopeful tone.
She laughed. Tessa loved to come out and help Mr. Webb out when she visited. “No, it’s the duke’s brother. Here he is now.”
She could have sworn she heard him muttering about what the duke’s bastard brother might know about plants.
Kingsley opened the greenhouse door and glanced down at her. “I am here. What do you need
my help with?” Impatience lined his voice.
Emma grabbed another apron and two sets of leather gloves. “Follow me...and be nice.”
“I’m always nice, angel.”
“Hardly.”
His low chuckle followed her as she wound her way past all the plants they had worked on last fall. “Here we are.”
Mr. Webb took one look at Mr. Kingsley in his riding clothes and shook his head. “He does know he’ll get dirty?” he asked Emma.
“I told him old clothes.”
“This is all I have,” Kingsley growled. “Now, what is this about?”
“We have plants to move to bigger pots,” Emma replied, picking up a small sweet briar planting.
“Digging in dirt?”
Emma held out a pair of gloves. “Yes. It’s good for you.”
“I am supposed to be keeping my brother company, in case you forgot.” He took the outstretched brown gloves and put them on. “And how is this good for me?”
“He is with Charlotte right now,” she replied without a clue what her brother-in-law was about today. But this was an excellent way to get to know the man in front of her. Why she felt this need was a matter she would not consider. “Which do you want us to work on, Mr. Webb?”
As if sensing the tensing surrounding them, Mr. Webb said quickly, “You two work on the sweetbriar while I move some plants outside.”
