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Emma caught his forearm. “No, wait! Please. I . . . have a proposition for you.”
His brows lifted, but she couldn’t tell if it was in interest or surprise. “Go on.”
She had to seize the moment. The sudden reappearance of the locket was a sign, a reminder of just how important it was to honor Andrew’s memory.
“I need heat. Immediately.”
Kit’s lips twitched in the hint of a roguish smile.
“I mean,” Emma blustered, certain he was about to misconstrue her words with a meaning far more scandalous than she’d intended. “I need ahothouse.”
She thought she heard him mutter “disappointing” under his breath, but she couldn’t be sure.
He sat back. “Forgive me for being blunt,” he said, more clearly, “but you’re an heiress. If you want a hothouse, why not just build one?”
“I don’t have time. I need it now, this week, to ensure my orchids bloom in time to present them at the Botanical Society’s meeting on the first week of January.” She sent him her most winning smile. “I’ve heard great things about Ashford Court’s hothouse.”
His eyes narrowed as he seemed to sense what was coming. She paused, wondering how much to offer, then decided to go in strong.
“I’ll give you five hundred pounds if you’ll let me put my plants in your greenhouse for the next ten days.”
His brows rose, and she prayed it was because he was impressed and not offended.
“Only ten days,” she said hastily.
“Over Christmas,” he growled. “It’s almost Christmas Eve.”
“Well, yes. I regret that the timing isn’t ideal. But if you have guests coming, I promise to stay out of your way. You’ll barely even know I’m there.”
His brows drew down. “I do not have guests coming. I like my solitude.”
“A thousand pounds,” she said desperately. “Please. For Andrew. I want to name these new orchids after him.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. “I know he’s gone, but . . I just think that if I do this, then a part of him will live on. Those beautiful things will bear his name, and every time someone says it in the future they’ll give him back a little bit of life.”
Kit frowned.Damn it, what a ridiculous offer! The last thing he wanted was this beautiful distraction invading his home and interrupting the week of festive brooding and drinking he had planned.
Still, how could he refuse? His estates, while still profitable, had suffered from his absence and inattention for the past two years. A thousand pounds would go a long way to set things back on an even keel. And hehadpromised he’d try to be more sociable . . .
She was still staring up at him expectantly.
“The Ancient Greeks believed something similar,” he conceded finally. “That a man could gain immortality by having his name spoken aloud by future generations. The ancient Egyptians said thatto speak the name of the dead is to make him live again.”
She beamed, apparently warmed by the fact that he understood. “Exactly!”
He sighed. “Oh, very well. I leave for Ashford Court in the morning. Come whenever you like. But I warn you, I keep a skeleton staff, and I’ve given most of them the week off to be with their families. It will not be the luxury you’re accustomed to.”
She laughed, and the sound warmed his soul. He scowled, just to prove she didn’t affect him in the slightest.
“I’ve just spent six months traipsing through the jungles of Brazil and another six weeks crossing the Atlantic,” she said airily. “I can live without luxury, believe me. And the sooner the better, for my plants. I’ll join you at Ashford Court tomorrow.”
She sent him another brilliant smile and Kit suppressed a groan.Not notice she was there?He’d have to be dead not to notice her. Dear God, what had he let himself in for?
Chapter 4
Emma’s journey to Somerset went smoothly enough, despite the usual pre-Christmas delays. As her carriage finally swept along the drive that led to Ashford Court she tried not to be impressed—and failed. Andrew had described the place to her several times, but her imagination hadn’t done the place justice. There was something particularly welcoming about the mellow stone façade and landscaped parkland, even with the slight dusting of snow that covered the ground.
She’d hoped Kit himself might welcome her, but a polite, elderly housekeeper showed her to her room instead. Emma barely bothered to remove her coat and hat before sweeping back down the grand staircase to direct the footman who was unloading her plants to place them in the hothouse. She followed him through a series of corridors until they emerged into the infamous structure, and couldn’t contain her gasp of delight.
“Oh, this isperfect!”
