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“I would like to bring some fresh flowers into the house. Do you have vases that can be used?”
“We have a few, surely,” Mrs. Wright assured her. “How many are you thinking?”
“One for every public room, at least. A few for each of the larger rooms. I would like two or three specifically for His Grace’s study. I will speak to the gardener after this to have flowers to be brought in.”
“We can do that for you, of course,” Mrs. Wright rushed. “You need not trouble yourself.”
“Oh, I need something to occupy my time without His Grace here. Have you heard where he went?”
“He went for a ride, Your Grace,” Mrs. Wright said. “So, I heard from the groom. He rode west. We do hope he makes it home before the storm.”
“Of course,” Edwina breathed, nodding to Mrs. Wright and the maid. “Thank you. If you could have the vases brought upstairs, I would appreciate it.”
“Since you are here, could we also have approval on the menu?” Mrs. Wright asked quickly before Edwina could leave. The housekeeper turned to the maid. “Go, run to get the menu from the cook.”
Edwina waited, smiling politely at Mrs. Wright, waiting for the girl to bring back a scrap of paper which she passed to Edwina hurriedly. Edwina scanned it, taking no exceptions to the proposed supper menu. As she handed the paper back to Mrs. Wright, she told her, “And I did so enjoy how the dishes were plated the other night. It was so… decorative and artful. Please see that the cook continues with that attention to detail?”
“We will let him know,” Mrs. Wright said, curtseying to Edwina.
Nodding back, Edwina turned again, heading up the stairs and out toward the gardens. As she stepped outside, the wind whipped at her hair, tugging the curls from the pins. She wished she had thought to put on a bonnet but pressed on, trying to find the gardener in the vast gardens. The first sprinkles of rain pelted her in the face as she searched, getting lost in the maze of hedges.
When she finally emerged on the back lawn, she turned around in frustration, finding no one around. She had no clue where to find the gardener. The previous day, several men had worked out in the open, pruning and weeding. Today, no one seemed to be around. She wiped a couple of drops of rain from her face, dreading trying to find her way back into the house when a call rang out through the yard.
“Your Grace!” a man shouted. She stayed put, trying to find the origin of the voice.
“Over here!” she called, unsure where to look for the mystery man. Behind her, she heard footsteps on the path and turned to find a man dressed in brown trousers and a green vest over his shirtsleeves.
“Your Grace,” he said, taking his wide-brimmed hat off to bow toward her. “Harry Fetters, Your Grace. Head gardener, at your service.”
Edwina sighed with relief, pressing a palm to her chest. “Oh, thank you for finding me.”
“I heard you were looking for me,” he told her nervously. “What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping to fill the house with freshly cut flowers. Do you think you can assist me?”
“Would you like to help with the arrangements?” he asked. “I can bring up some choice blooms and filler material if you would like.”
“Yes, please,” she breathed gratefully. “Do you have peonies you can cut?”
The man hesitated briefly. “I do, a few, yes.”
“Have those brought to His Grace’s study,” she instructed, the wind whipping through her dress, distracting her. “And please, could you help me get back to the house?”
“Of course, Your Grace,” he said quickly, showing her the opening in the hedge. “This is the quickest way. I’m sure the heavens are about to open up around us any second.”
