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“There are additional bedrooms down this way,” Simon said, waving her down the hall. “And the nursery is upstairs.”
Fergus noticed that she visibly swallowed before asking in a shaky voice. “Perhaps you could show me the gardens, Your Grace?”
“Of course, of course,” he said quickly, showing her to the central staircase. “This is the quickest way.”
They said little in their flight from the upper floor, emerging at last into the sunlight at the front of the house. Fergus took a deep breath of relief, indicating toward the right of the house.
“There is a reflection pond this way. I believe there should be late spring flowers still blooming. Maybe some of the tulips are still out though likely past their prime,” Fergus explained.
“You must have a very talented gardener,” Edwina said, the color slowly returning to her face.
“We have had a few in the past years. There is so much of the grounds to keep up with, so I cannot say they are in their prime.”
They came to the shallow pool, dotted with water lilies. Edwina peered into the pond.
“Are those fish?” she asked with delight. “I have never seen one that color?”
Fergus smiled. “Yes, they are a type of fish called koi. They come from the far east.” He could not help but smile at the delight on Edwina’s face as she watched the fish swimming around. She walked around the edge of the pool, tracking different fish, for several minutes.
“Oh, I could stay here all day watching them,” she breathed but sighed reaching back out to Fergus. “But we must continue the tour, I am sure.”
“We can stay here as long as you would like,” Fergus smiled. “But yes, there is much else to see.”
He took her hand and placed it back on his arm, feeling more relaxed in her company as a genuine smile radiated across her face. He led her toward the back of the house, intentionally avoiding the path that would lead directly to the front of the house and his mother’s grave. Thankfully, Edwina did not ask, thoroughly distracted as they headed into a tunnel of wisteria in full bloom.
“I say, this manor has to be magical,” she breathed. She looked up to Fergus, her hazel eyes glinting in the sunlight, and his breath caught in his throat. He supposed he should say something flirtatious. In his past, he might have said something about how magical she was or how she was more beautiful than any flower on the grounds. However, the words did not come, and her attention fled elsewhere.
“Are there any flowers that you are particularly fond of, Your Grace?” Simon asked. “If we do not already have them on the property, we could acquire them for you.” Edwina peered around the garden, her brow furrowed. The sheer effort of her concentration seemed adorable to Fergus, and he tried not to grin.
“I only know a few types of flowers,” she said, at last, “but I shall endeavor to learn every single one on the property. Tell me, Your Grace, what is your favorite?”
He hesitated a moment, wondering if he should tell her the truth. Hoping not to regret it, he answered simply, “Peonies.”
Simon raised his eyebrow at him, walking down the path a little further.
“Do you have any here?” Edwina asked, obliviously. “I would love to see them.”
“This way,” Simon interjected, indicating further back on the property. “They are a little out of the way, though.”
“Oh, I do not mind,” Edwina said breathlessly, her smile unwavering. “It is such a beautiful day out that I could not mind being out of doors.”
They meandered on the path, Simon leading the way, through the labyrinth of hedges and gardens toward the pond on the back side of the manor.
“Oh, I would surely get lost if I tried to find my way back here,” Edwina said.
“You will get used to it with time,” Fergus said. Standing up straight, he could see just over the top of the hedges, but he could see where Edwina, much shorter than he, might have difficulty.
“Try looking out over the gardens from your bedroom, Your Grace,” Simon suggested. “The layout makes more sense when you can see it from above.”
They exited the hedges to the pond at last. A stone bench sat on the edge of the pond, backed by several mature peony bushes in full bloom. These peonies here were a light pink whereas the ones at Fergus’ mother’s grave were deep magenta.
“Here you are, Your Grace,” Simon said.
Edwina knelt to breathe in the fragrance of the blooms. “Oh, these are wonderful,” she whispered, her eyes tightly closed as she relished the scent. She stood and turned to Fergus, asking, “What about these blooms makes them your favorite? The scent, the color?”
Fergus could not tell her the real reason, that they reminded him of his mother. Simon waited for him to speak, his expression as neutral as possible. The silence drew on, and Edwina’s smile slowly faded as though she knew she had asked the wrong question.
“I suppose the scent,” he said shortly. Anxious to get out of the conversation before Edwina asked any more personal questions, he turned. “Your Grace, your cheeks are tinging red. We should get you out of the sun.”
Her face fell with disappointment, but she nodded. Looking down, she fell into step with him, saying, “Of course, Your Grace.”
Behind them, Fergus heard Simon sigh with frustration. With a pang of regret, Fergus held out his arm to Edwina once more. She put her hand on his hesitantly, stiffly, her radiant smile gone.
