Page 21 of A Botanist and A Betrothal (Gentleman Scholars #4)

“N

ot again!” Lincoln wanted to roar the words, but he suspected they only came out as a groan in actuality.

He had arrived at the greenhouse only to find it in disarray. His research had been destroyed. Again.

“I’m getting very tired of this,” he grumbled as he collected as much as he could, grateful that he had begun taking his most fragile instruments home with him at the end of each day.

He had thought he was being paranoid to do so, and it was a pain to pack up and carry the heavy equipment each day, but now he was glad he had taken that step.

Shock and dismay flooded through him, though, when he realized that the rarest of the plants had been taken rather than just demolished. He should have insisted that he remove the specimens to his lab at the institute.

On second thought, though, if he was being targeted, he wouldn’t want to bring such malice near his other friends. The Northcotts and the other scholars at the institute hadn’t asked for this.

Neither had he, though. Well, he had, in a certain way, he supposed.

Lincoln sighed again, wondering if this was even worth it. Obviously, Mr. Caldwell or someone in his household was in opposition to Lincoln’s research. Suspicion, anger, and disappointment warred within him.

Who could he trust? Did Vesta know?

No, of course not, he rejected the idea immediately. That was just his insecurities talking.

Lincoln truly believed that Vesta’s trust in him was genuine, that she really was helping him with his research, but she lived here. How could she know nothing about such sabotage?

Of course, the greenhouse was far from the main house. While he found it nearly impossible to believe that no one at the house knew anything, it was entirely possible Vesta was completely in the dark. It was clear to him that her stepfather held her in low regard.

“What about the other plants?” he gasped to himself, striding away from the greenhouse to check on the live plants still in the wild.

He hadn’t even told Vesta about a certain cluster deep in the woods. He was almost certain no one could know about it, but he was afraid to even go check in case he was being followed.

He did go to the glen where he and Vesta had taken the plants from originally, to see if there were any more still thriving there. Relief flooded him when he saw that they were all intact. So, it would seem that it was only the greenhouse being targeted. This led him to believe that it wasn’t highly professional saboteurs.

Lincoln began to laugh almost hysterically.

“Are there professional saboteurs?” he asked out loud as he walked back toward the house, wondering what to do with himself.

If it was Mr. Green or Doctor Horace doing the sabotage, wouldn’t they know about the plants if they had an arrangement with Mr. Caldwell? It was all so convoluted! Lincoln could hardly know which end was up.

He was seriously considering quitting this project, but his feelings for Vesta were strong enough that he couldn’t leave her there—not without at least checking if she would come away with him.

Lincoln was certain Lucy and Roderick would welcome her into their home until Lincoln could arrange for their marriage. They had promised to do so upon Lincoln’s marriage, so it was likely they would do so beforehand if necessary.

He ought to confront Mr. Caldwell, but he hadn’t yet contracted a lawyer, and he was unsure if it was worth the fight. Yes, the research was important, but he was becoming afraid that violence upon their person could be next.

Lincoln entered the house by the back door and quietly asked a servant to have Vesta meet him in the back garden.

“What has happened?” Vesta asked as soon as she caught sight of him, letting Lincoln know that his distress was written all over his face.

“They have struck again,” he told her with a heavy sigh, running his hand through his hair and dishevelling it even further.

Her frown actually lifted his spirits. He didn’t think she was an actress; she wasn’t faking her surprise. He had been right in his certainty about her.

“Your plants?” she asked.

“All destroyed again, or missing,” he told her with a nod, “but I’m relieved to say that the ones still in the ground are fine, so I suspect it is only the greenhouse that is being targeted. I would like to speak to Mr. Caldwell once more about taking the specimens to my own laboratory, but I fear this would bring danger to my institute, so I’m hesitant to do that. In either case, I am also considering leaving this particular research project behind.”

“Oh no, Lincoln, you can’t do that! You said it’s important—lives are at stake.” Vesta appeared genuinely distressed over his words.

“It’s true, it is. But if Horace is going to fight me like this, it’s not worth my own life, nor yours. And if he’s pursuing this research, then it will still reach the patients eventually, don’t you think?”

“I think anyone who could destroy research like that isn’t thinking about people’s lives.” Vesta’s voice rang with certainty.

Lincoln’s chest tightened over her words. She wasn’t wrong, and he appreciated her candour. He grasped her hand. “What about you, Vesta? Would you come away with me?”

“Of course,” she answered immediately.

“Truly? Even if it means being estranged from your family?”

Vesta laughed but it didn’t really contain mirth.

“Wouldn’t you say I’m already estranged from them? Mr. Caldwell and his daughters have never professed to be my family, and my mother isn’t in a position to take a side with me. It is only my dowry I’m concerned over—if we need it to sustain ourselves.”

Lincoln nodded. Her argument was sound, but he still couldn’t completely shake the suspicion that she might know something. She was right, though. They would need her dowry if they were to wed without the benefit of his making a lucrative scientific discovery.

“Will you come with me to speak with Mr. Caldwell?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said once more, but her grip on his hand tightened as though in fear.

Lincoln couldn’t blame her. She obviously had a very complicated relationship with the ornery man.

“He has to be involved with this, don’t you think?” Lincoln asked her.

“I don’t see how he couldn’t be,” Vesta agreed. After a deep breath she allowed a sigh to escape. “He prides himself on knowing everything that takes place on his property. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had already known about your interest in his plants before you turned up.”

Lincoln’s gaze narrowed on her and he fought to maintain his composure.

That was the problem—how could Mr. Caldwell have known? Lincoln had come the very next day.

Only Vesta had known he had seen the plants. How could Horace have found out anything? Lincoln would honour his agreement to marry the girl, but no one had demanded he trust her.