Page 20 of A Duchess in Ten Days (Icy Dukes #2)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

" Y our Grace, do we really need that much wainscoting?" Paulina asked, her voice cautious but laced with concern.

Lavinia barely glanced up from the plans she was reviewing. "Yes, we do. The rooms need a sense of grandeur, Paulina."

"But they are barely used, Your Grace, if you will permit me to say," Paulina chipped in. "His Grace rarely has visitors who stay over, so the rooms might be left abandoned after the renovations."

"We'll do it either way."

"But Your Grace," Paulina hesitated, clearly skeptical. "You have already spent a considerable amount on the renovations, and more purchases might?—"

"More purchases are necessary," Lavinia interrupted, her tone firm. "The guest areas should feel as though they belong to the dukedom. The wainscoting will give the rooms the elegance they deserve."

It wasn't working.

Lavinia had thrown herself into the renovations of the estate for weeks now.

She spent her mornings picking out fabrics for new curtains, selecting the most lavish wallpaper, and commissioning sculptors and landscapers to breathe new life into the grounds.

It was a way to fill the silence, to make herself visible in a place that felt too big for her.

More importantly, she had made extravagant purchases—ornate furniture, expensive chandeliers, rare flowers for the garden.

All in hopes that Andrew would react. Throw a fit, perhaps.

Her father always had, whenever she’d made such excessive buys.

His sharp words and disapproval would cut through the air like a knife, reminding them of their limits.

But Andrew...he didn't care.

Every item she purchased for the estate was met with indifference, no matter how ridiculous the purchase was.

She didn't know what she expected from Andrew, but she had hoped for something, even a glimmer of acknowledgment.

Yet every day he remained aloof, sequestered in his study or out attending to business matters, and not once did he ask about the changes she was making.

It didn't make sense. How could he not be affected by such lavish spending?

Lavinia was determined to provoke a response from him, any kind of response.

She was tired of the silence between them, of his indifference.

She had tried to find other subtle ways to get a reaction from him, one that was similar to the frustration he had thrown into her life, but nothing had worked.

But so far, Andrew had remained unchanged. He had passed by the new furniture in the drawing room without comment. The crystal chandelier in the dining hall had not even garnered a raised eyebrow.

"Your Grace, the gardener has arrived to start on the section of the garden you mentioned before..." Paulina said, interrupting Lavinia's thoughts. "The one you complained about last week."

"Oh, good," Lavinia said and smiled. She rolled the plan back up and made her way out of the drawing room.

As she stepped outside into the crisp air, she made her way toward the garden. The gardener was already at work, kneeling down near a flowerbed, his hands dirty with soil.

She approached him and cleared her throat, catching his attention. "How are you Fredrick?" She smiled. "I'm sorry for making you redo all of this, but I do think the garden can look better than this. Is there a way to make that happen? Particularly in this area?"

When it came to the garden, Lavinia was serious about renovating it.

She had always found solace in flowers—how they bloomed, the care they required, and the way they could transform an ordinary space into something breathtaking.

She had spent hours in the garden as a girl, learning from her mother about the delicate balance of color and structure.

It was one of the few places where she could lose herself.

Fredrick straightened up and dusted his hands off on his trousers. He had been working on the garden for years, and as such, he was very familiar with the land.

"Good afternoon, Your Grace," Fredrick began, wiping a drop of sweat from his brow, "I see what you're saying about this part of the garden.

To be honest, it has been in need of some attention for a while.

The soil here is a bit too dry, and the flowers haven't been flourishing as they should.

But we can rework the layout and add a bit of variety to the plants.

Perhaps more perennials for stability, and some seasonal blooms to keep it vibrant year-round. "

"Perfect." Lavinia beamed.

"It will be a bit of a challenge," Fredrick continued. "The soil is very compacted, and the roots of some plants are tangled beneath the surface. I'll need to work close to the ground, dig out the weeds and loosen the earth with my hands."

Lavinia studied the ground. "How long do you reckon that will take?"

Fredrick crouched down, running his fingers through the soil as he inspected it. "A few days at least, Your Grace. The soil's stubborn, and I'll have to be careful with the roots. It'll take time to get it properly aerated and ready for new plants."

Lavinia tilted her head, considering the task at hand. "Perhaps I could help with this," she suggested, her tone light but insistent. "I always enjoyed working with the garden when I was younger, and it might speed things up."

Fredrick glanced at her with wide eyes, clearly taken aback. "Your Grace, it's far too much work for you to be doing," he said quickly, shaking his head. "The soil's compacted, and the roots—well, it's not exactly delicate work."

Paulina, standing nearby, frowned. "I would advise against it, Your Grace. It's terribly messy work, and it's not work you should concern yourself with. Please, leave it to Fredrick."

Lavinia crossed her arms. "I know it's difficult work, but I also know my way around a spade. Let me help. It's not like I have pressing matters to concern myself with."

"I understand, Your Grace, but truly, it would be easier if you simply let me handle it. It's not the sort of task for a lady."

Lavinia's lips curled into a smile, more amused by their insistence than anything else. "Nonsense. I insist," she said, crouching down, already reaching for a small trowel. "I'll manage just fine."

Paulina gave her a disapproving glance but didn't try to stop her again. Fredrick, seeing she wouldn't be swayed, sighed in resignation and reluctantly handed her the trowel.

"Well, if you insist, Your Grace," he said. "But do be careful. It's a lot harder work than it looks."

Lavinia nodded, her hands already covered in dirt as she began loosening the soil. She didn't mind the mess. It felt grounding, and it helped take her mind off the plotting and scheming to get under Andrew's skin.

She had been so engrossed in the work that she barely noticed the footsteps approaching until they grew louder...until she heard the unmistakable, stern voice of Andrew.

"What in blazes are you doing?" His tone was sharp, and filled with disbelief. Lavinia looked up to see him standing at the edge of the garden, his face flushed from the cold and his gaze hard as he took in the sight of her on the ground.

"Oh, good afternoon, Your Grace," she greeted flatly. "Is there a reason you decided to grace us with your presence this fine afternoon?"

"Lavinia, what are you doing?" he asked again, staring at her crouched down on the ground.

Lavinia slowly straightened, brushing dirt from her hands. "I'm gardening," she answered. "We are trying to aerate the soil. Is there a problem?"

"A problem?" Andrew repeated with a scoff. "It's freezing out here, Lavinia. You'll catch your death crawling around in this cold. What were you thinking?" He crossed the space between them quickly, his eyes scanning her disheveled form.

His usual composure was gone, replaced with concern so sharp it bordered on frustration.

Lavinia's eyebrows instantly furrowed as she scanned the area.

He was right about the cold, but his reaction baffled her.

Andrew had barely acknowledged her for days, retreating into his work and leaving her to navigate the house and her own feelings alone.

Yet now, here he was, acting like he cared about what she was up to.

Her fingers kept brushed at the dirt on her skirts as she looked up at him. "I just wanted to help with the garden. It is my personal project after all and I have spent quite a lot of time and resources to ensure that it looks a certain way. You said that was all right."

Andrew let out a frustrated huff, his hand raking through his hair as he took a step closer. "This isn't about helping," he said, his voice rising slightly. "It's about you risking your health for no good reason. Fredrick could have done this perfectly well by himself."

Lavinia stood her ground, lifting her chin slightly. "I'm not a child, Andrew. I'm perfectly fine."

"You're not fine," he snapped, the harshness in his voice making her flinch. "You're reckless. What possessed you to come out here and do this? You should be inside, warming up, not—" He cut himself off with a frustrated exhale, gesturing toward the mess around them. "This is madness.

Before she could respond, Andrew reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.

Without a word, he closed the gap between them and began brushing the dirt from her hands and sleeves with meticulous care.

His touch was firm yet strangely gentle, his attention so focused that it left Lavinia momentarily speechless.

Her heart gave an unexpected flutter, a sensation that confused and unsettled her.

She instinctively held her breath, unsure of how to react.

Why was he doing this? Why now? His brow was furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed into a tight line.

For a man who had kept his distance for days, his proximity now felt almost overwhelming.

"It is too cold for you to be outside," he said, almost in a whisper.