A Duke's Garden of Love: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 5

  Deciding that she would have to find him in order to get her answers, Rosamund went inside.

  She entered through the side door which was used for the staff. It was quiet. She saw no maids or housekeepers. She also did not see her cousin.

  Rosamund continued down the hallway. Everything felt so strange and quiet. Where was everyone?

  She wasn’t sure why she had never met any of the other staff, but now she was beginning to wonder if there were any other staff. Was Theodore the only one?

  She just needed to find the necessary equipment for making a solution that would help to prevent the black spot. Surely it was not going to be so difficult to find Theodore or someone else who could tell her where the items were.

  Finally, she saw Theodore coming out of a room.

  “Rosamund!” he said in a hushed but exasperated voice.

  “Theo, there you are. I need to ask you for a few items that I need. Just some supplies,” she said, feeling strange that he was looking at her with such distress.

  “Why have you come in here? What are you doing?” he asked, the same urgency in his tone.

  “What is the problem? I was looking for you. As I said, I need a few items,” she explained.

  “But you should not have come inside, Rosie. That was very foolish of you,” he insisted.

  She could not understand why he was acting so frantically. What was the problem? She had not been invited inside, but she had not realised that she was not allowed.

  She was an employee, after all. What was the problem with her coming in to try and find help?

  It was very unnerving to see Theodore this way. He was frightened and anxious and insistent. She had never seen him like that before.

  “I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that there was a problem,” she said.

  “You ought not to have come inside like this. This is the home of a duke, Rosie. You need to be more careful,” he said, looking around as if nervous that she might be seen.

  Rosamund was certainly uncomfortable, but she still couldn’t understand what the problem was. Yes, this was the home of a wealthy and titled man, but that hardly mattered. If he was paying her to be in the gardens, why could she not come inside just to find Theodore?

  Would the Duke of Somerfield truly be angry about her transgression? Should she have been more cautious? For a man who had been watching her, she did not imagine he was so careful about now allowing her in the home. He had clearly been aware of her presence, so what did he expect? Was she to always be outside? Did she mean nothing?

  “All right, so what is it that you need me to get for you?” Theodore asked in frustration.

  “Just these things,” she said.

  Rosamund handed him the list of supplies that she needed and tried to remain calm, as if she was not furious at her cousin for overreacting to her existence.

  “Is this all?” he asked.

  “Indeed, it is. But if you think he would not mind, I should like to add a few more beds and some new species of flowers. Just imagine what it would be like if he walked out there every day and saw something even grander!” she said.

  “What do you mean? It is already grand,” Theodore said.

  “Yes, I know that. But it is only as grand as his former gardener had imagined. Now, I am here. And I have new ideas. I was thinking that we could do something even more elaborate. What if I even added a new trellis over the—”

  “You are not here to make the gardens more phenomenal, Rosie. You are here to save the dying roses,” Theodore said.

  “Why are you in such a bad mood?” she retorted, tired of hearing him speak to her this way.

  Theodore sighed and shook his head.

  “I am very sorry, but you do not know what he is like,” he said.

  “The duke?” she asked.

  “Yes, the duke. Of course I mean the duke,” he replied.

  “I thought you said that he is a good man to work for. Is there a problem with him? Is he cruel?” she asked.

  “He is a good man and that is not the problem,” Theodore said.

  “Then what is it?” Rosamund asked.

  “He is very…private,” Theodore said, awkwardly.

  “But what is wrong with that? I am not here to invade his privacy in any way. I came only to hand you this list. I apologise if I have done something wrong, Theo, but I really only wanted to get what I need for the sake of the garden,” she reasoned.

  “I know that, but you need to bear in mind that this is his home and if there is anything he finds…disagreeable, it is my duty to ensure that it does not happen,” Theodore said.

  Rosamund was as confused as ever. Theodore had always spoken so well of his employer and this place in which he worked. Why was he now so frightened?

  But just as that thought passed through her mind, Theodore’s shoulders relaxed.

  “Listen, Rosie. The Duke of Somerfield is a good man, a kind man. But he is very particular and I am rather protective of his privacy because I know how important that is to him. Because of that, I need to urge you to be sensitive and give him a wide berth while you are here,” he said.

  Rosamund sucked in a breath of air, still not entirely understanding the situation at hand. She could not imagine what was so wrong with the Duke of Somerfield that she needed to be wary of him if, indeed, he was a kind man like Theodore claimed.

  “All right, then, Theo. I will do what you say. I cannot understand what you are talking about, but if I must stay far from the duke and remain outside, I suppose that is the only choice for me,” she said.

  “Thank you. I am glad we have an understanding,” he said.

  She nodded, uncomfortably. But just as Rosamund was ready to do as she had been told and turn away, Theodore spoke again.

  “How is your friend, Miss Grimes? Is she well?” he asked.

  Surprised, Rosamund paused. It had been clear that Theodore had noticed Juliet, but Rosamund had not expected him to ask about her again like this.

  “Yes, she is. She is very well, thank you. Would you like me to pass along my regards?” she offered.

  “Oh…no, no, no,” he said, his tone very formal. “I actually saw her just two days past and thought to ask after her is all.”

  “You saw her? Well, you are quite fortunate. I have not even seen her in a few days, so I must confess my envy. She is such a wonderful young woman, don’t you think?” Rosamund asked.

  “Indeed, she appears to be,” he replied, still with that stiff, formal manner.

  “Are you quite certain you would not like me to speak with her? To tell her that you asked after her?” she pressed.

  “Please, do not think any further on it. It was a foolish notion that I thought I should even ask,” he said.

  “I would not say that,” Rosamund began. “After all, she did appear rather interested to know more about you.”

  At this, Theodore’s eyes lit up.

  “She did?” he asked.

  For a moment, Rosamund wanted to string Theodore along as punishment. Here, he had made her feel as though she had done something very wrong in coming inside, and yet there was nothing wrong with him allowing her to tarry if it meant answering his questions when he was so clearly interested in her friend.

  But Rosamund decided to tell him the truth, which was that she had very vaguely noticed an interest in Juliet’s eyes.

  “She has not said anything directly, but I saw from the way in which the two of you looked at one another that she was very clearly interesting in learning more about you. I thought it appeared as though you shared the interest, but I could not be certain,” she said.

  “Oh…an interest? No, I never said that I had an interest,” he insisted.

  “You did not have to say it, Theo. I know you. We grew up together. Now, please stop pretending that you are only asking questions about Juliet because you happened to see her. If you have an interest in her, I can certainly try to make something out of it,” she offered.

 
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, affronted.

  Rosamund had never been in love before. She had never even had true feelings for a man. Her whole life had been nothing but the work of flowers. So she found it rather difficult to comprehend what it was that Theodore would want from her if he had feelings for Juliet.

  But it appeared that she had said the wrong thing, made the wrong offer. Whatever he wanted, it was not for Rosamund to help him in getting to know Juliet better.

  “If you need anything from me, please tell me. That is all I am saying. Now, I expect that I should depart from here?” she asked.

  “Yes, that would be the best thing. Thank you, Rosamund. And I mean it; it is better if you do not enter here unless you must,” he said.

  With that, Theodore turned and left in the other direction. As strangely as he had shown up, he was gone.

  Rosamund stood there for a moment longer than she got to have. She recognised that she needed to go, needed to be obedient to what her cousin had told her.

  But she did not understand it. She couldn’t understand why he was being so exaggerated about it all.

  Regardless, she did that she had been told. She started to walk away.

  But as she turned the corner back towards the service door, she bumped straight into a tall, handsome, dark-eyed man.

  Chapter 7

  It was shocking to see that beautiful face this close up.

  Albion had known that Miss Fleet was beautiful from afar, but he had never seen her face-to-face. He had never imagined that she was even more beautiful than he had previously thought.

  It was a surprise to realise this. Partially because he did not know why he was noticing it in that moment. And partially because he hadn’t known that anyone could be so beautiful.

  “I beg your pardon,” Albion said.

  “N-no. It is my fault. I am so sorry for being here. Inside, I mean,” she said. Promptly, she added, “Y-Your Grace.”

  “You need not worry, Miss Fleet. I know that you must have a good reason for having come inside,” he said.

  “Yes, I simply needed to give Mr. Connelly a list of items I require for the sake of the garden. I assure you that I was not trying to do anything other than my duty,” she insisted.

  “I never imagined you were. I understand. Please, do not worry,” he said again.

  Miss Fleet was clearly nervous. He felt awful that she should be so worried about having entered his estate, but he knew that it had probably been Theodore’s doing. After Albion had made such a display of not wanting to be bothered by a stranger, had he caused this discomfort in Miss Fleet?

  “Th-thank you, Your Grace,” she said, still quite shy and hardly willing to make eye contact.

  “And how is the garden?” he asked, as gently as he was able so that she might see he was not upset at her in any way.

  Finally, Miss Fleet looked up at him with those beautiful brown eyes.

  “It is getting much better. It has been a lot of work, but I am finally beginning to see true progress,” she said.

  “Is that so? What sort of progress?” he asked.

  She swallowed, still nervous, and smiled cautiously.

  “Well, I pruned all of the roses that were clearly sick. From there, I sprayed them with a solution I have made with lavender. In fact, I sprayed the entire garden. There were aphids in some places and the lavender solution helps to keep them at bay,” she explained.

  “Really? I have not heard that,” he said.

  “It actually works quite well for many pests and insects. They dislike the smell,” she told him.

  “Fascinating. And you covered the entire garden?” he asked.

  “I did, indeed. I just finished today. The solution required a week to extract, so over the past week, I allowed that to get ready while I focused on spreading a layer of thick chunks of bark along the ground to help prevent the spread of the black spot,” she told him.

  Albion was intrigued. Not simply with the sheer volume of work that Miss Fleet had undertaken, but also the perfectly calm way in which she spoke about it. There was nothing in her demeanour that betrayed exhaustion or weariness. She was simply doing whatever it was that she had grown accustomed to doing in her many years as a gardener.

  “You are very knowledgeable about these things. I was told as much, but I confess that I am surprised by the extent to which you have the answers. Mr. Connelly did not do you justice even when he spoke so highly of you,” he said.

  Miss Fleet blushed and looked away from him.

  “It is nothing. I am fortunate to have the opportunity to spend my days in a garden so lovely as the one you own,” she said.

  She had such a sweet nature. With careful respect, Miss Fleet had officially struck him.

  Glancing to the hall that led to the servants’ door he sensed that she was trying to leave, but he suddenly didn’t want her to.

  “I am glad that you are happy to be here. I was so disappointed with what happened previously and the failures of my previous employee. But you are making things right, I can see,” Albion said.

  “Oh…I am glad you think so,” she said. “It really has not been so hard. I am glad to be of assistance. I simply want to ensure that you have what you need for the betterment of your garden.”

  It was a simple statement, as if she really did believe that her only purpose in life was the growing of flowers. Did she not recognise that she was capable of far more than that? That her worth was beyond these things?

  Albion remembered what Theodore had said about her being engaged. She was meant to be marrying someone. A man who was both wealthy and unlikable. Surely that said something about her own character, so why was he finding it so difficult to see any fault in her?

  Miss Fleet did not seem like the sort of woman who would chase after those things. But he had only just met her and, perhaps, her beauty was causing him to see things as different from what they really were.

  “If you will excuse me, I ought to be going,” she said, looking to the door again.

  “So soon?” he asked. Although he did not put himself directly in her way, Albion did not hesitate to give her reason to pause before leaving. Despite himself, despite everything he said he wanted in terms of solitude, he would have preferred that she stay a moment longer that he might be able to learn something more.

  “I fear that I have already inconvenienced you,” she said.

  “No, not at all,” he replied.

  Her shoulders relaxed somewhat and he saw a brief flash of confusion on her face, as if she had thought he really would not want her there.

  Then again, Albion had tried to convince himself many times that he did not want anyone else present.

  “Oh…very well,” she said, still deeply uncomfortable.

  “Mr. Connelly has told me of your many exploits within the realm of gardening. He has shared that you are something of an enigma to many,” Albion said.

  “Oh, that is just talk,” she said, modestly, a smile creeping onto her face.