Page 13 of A Trial of His Affections (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #2)

Chapter Thirteen

G race tied the ribbons of her bonnet and pulled on her gloves. Mr. Yardley had not yet arrived, but it was nearing noon, and she did not want to waste any of their time together doing something as mundane as putting on her bonnet and spencer. They had an entire museum to see.

She interlaced her fingers and pushed her gloves down firmly.

Elle stood off to the side, watching. Grace didn’t know if it disappointed her sister-in-law not to go or if it had been a relief to discover that Mr. Yardley’s sisters would act as chaperones. Elle had looked more tired since coming to London. Not that Grace could blame her. The streets were noisy at all hours, even in the dead of night. Grace had no notion where people would need to go at three in the morning. But that did not seem to stop the carriages rattling down the street.

The knocker on the door sounded. He was here.

Grace grinned, a skitter of excitement zinging through her stomach. It was only because she wanted to see the British Museum. Nothing more.

Lansing opened the door, and Mr. Yardley stood outside, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. His gaze caught Grace, and his whole face lit. His eyes crinkled slightly. Not so much that they became mere slits, but enough that when he stopped, the lines remained.

“I see you anticipated me.” He stepped inside and held out his arm to Grace. “Let’s be on our way. My sisters are waiting in the carriage, and we don’t want to waste a single moment.”

“That was precisely my thought.” Grace put her hand on his arm and gave a little shiver. She was just excited about the glorious afternoon that lay before them.

Mr. Yardley handed her into his carriage.

Grace smiled when she saw Lady Evangeline and Lady Arabella. While they lived near each other in Somerset, they did not always associate with the same people. Especially as they were several years younger than Grace. But it was good to see some friendly faces.

The girls shifted to the side, making room for Grace to sit on the squabs next to them.

The carriage leaned to one side as Mr. Yardley pulled himself up and stepped inside. He settled onto the bench across from them, his hands clasped together and dangling down between his knees. “What do you wish to see first?”

“I should like to see the Roman and Greek artifacts,” she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “But I think what I wish to see most is the?—.”

“Herbarium?” Mr. Yardley asked with a smile.

Grace nodded, her eyes wide with excitement. She’d been looking forward to this part of London since Philip had first mentioned a Season. “All the Duchess of Bedford’s papers and sketches are available to see.” She let out her breath slowly. He had seen her reading a book about botany, but did he realize just how much she loved the subject? Botany and, more precisely, the study of cryptogamous plants was not a common pursuit for a society lady. Indeed, a lady of any kind. While she did not think him the sort to make light of her interest, after the slight from Lady Haversham, she was a little cautious of society people.

She looked over at him. “Have you ever visited the exhibit?”

Mr. Yardley shook his head. “No, but then I have never been to the museum with you.” He smiled at her, and her fears subsided.

Grace leaned back against the seat and watched out the window as London passed by. They could have walked to the museum in Montagu House faster than the carriage could make it through the crowded London streets. They plodded along, sometimes sitting in place for several minutes. “I should not have thought so many would be out already. We are much too early for the fashionable hour.” She frowned out the window.

“I believe you’ll find that London is always busy.” Mr. Yardley followed her gaze. “I find it grows more crowded every time I visit.”

“London is quite diverting. However, I cannot say I prefer it to the country. There is something to be said for a slower pace.” There was a hint of longing in Grace’s voice. She would need to temper that when out with other people.

Lady Arabella looked at her, gap-mouthed. “But the country is so dull. London is so alive. How can you say such things?”

The carriage rolled to a stop again, and Grace folded her arms. “Perhaps we should have walked. It is only a few streets away from our townhouse.”

“Perhaps. But I already had the carriage from fetching my sisters.” Mr. Yardley stood but stooped over so as not to hit his head and pushed open the door. He disappeared for a moment but then stuck his head back in. “You need not fear any longer, Miss Jenkins. We are here.” He stepped away, allowing the footman to hand the ladies out.

Grace stepped onto the pavement in front of the main gate.

Mr. Yardley lifted his arm to her but then dropped it before she could take hold. Why had he not waited for her? Had she hesitated too long and missed her chance? Or was it something else? Her stomach plunged. That was not the outcome she’d hoped for. Although why she felt so out of sorts over it, she could not say.

* * *

Grace shrugged off her confusion and fell into step with Mr. Yardley. Lady Evangeline and Lady Arabella trailed along close behind. They passed through the gate onto the quadrangle, with the main house in front of them and the colonnade on either side of the gate.

Mr. Yardley walked with his hands clasped behind his back as if he were subtly trying to tell her he would not be offering her his arm again. But why? What had happened in those split seconds to change his mind? Had she said something in the carriage to displease him? Or was it because they were out and more of society would see them together? Perhaps he was afraid people would believe there was an agreement between them.

She lifted her thumbnail to her lips, but when she noticed Lady Evangeline watching her, she dropped it down to her side.

They entered through the front doors and moved straight towards the grand staircase. Grace looked up at the mural covering the entryway ceiling. “Who are they?” She pointed upwards.

Mr. Yardley shrugged. “I don’t know. They look to be Greek.”

“It is Apollo and Phaeton,” Lady Evangeline murmured from behind.

Grace looked back over her shoulder. “You know of the Greek myths?”

Lady Evangeline nodded. “Some.”

Grace stopped for a moment and stared. It was times such as these that she noticed the disparity in her education compared to ladies of better breeding. Mrs. Bootle had done her best, but she could not teach everything in only three short years.

Someone hurried up the stairs, bumping Grace on their way past.

She scowled at the gentleman’s back before continuing on her way. She would learn more of Lady Evangeline’s secrets later, but for now, they were causing a bit of a clog. They stopped on the second floor, and Mr. Yardley motioned to a side room. “If I remember correctly, the herbarium is in room eleven.”

Grace moved ahead of the others, her excitement overruling propriety. But she pulled up short just inside the doorway.

Mr. Yardley bumped into her with a grunt. “Why did you stop?”

Grace looked over her shoulder at him. “I thought you said this was the herbarium?”

Mr. Yardley nodded. “I thought this is where I remember last seeing it. Although, it has been at least three years since last I came.”

Grace’s stomach dropped. Had they removed the exhibit? New items were being added to the museum every year. Was it possible they deemed the plants unworthy to stay and had replaced them with—she looked ahead—a black and chestnut colored orangutan? There was also something that looked like a deer. Why should a deer be of more importance than plants?

She turned back to Mr. Yardley. “Where are they? What did they do with them?” Tears stung her eyes. It was silly to let something as mundane as an herbarium upset her so. But she could not help it. They were important to her, even if they were not important to anyone else. How could the museum do away with them?

Mr. Yardley reached out a hand and stopped a small man hurrying about the room with a small group of people following behind.

“Excuse me, sir, but I am with a group.” The man, with dots of perspiration along his brow, pulled his arm away with a huff and patted at his forehead with a handkerchief.

Mr. Yardley took a step forward. “I am sorry to bother you, but could you tell me where the herbarium is?”

The man scowled. “Why do you not purchase a guidebook as everyone else does?”

Mr. Yardley shook his head. “Where would I purchase one?”

“On the first floor, off to the side of the entrance. There is a boy there selling them. Now, if you will leave me to my group.” He turned away without another word.

Mr. Yardley raised his brows at Grace. “It seems there is a guidebook of some sort.” He motioned out the door. “Why don’t you ladies wait for me on the landing, and I will go purchase one for us?”

Grace nodded and stepped out of room eleven. A sick feeling settled in her belly. First, Mr. Yardley had withdrawn his arm, and then no plants? This was not a fortuitous start to the day. Or the Season. “I’m certain it’s only a mix up.” He said with a pat on her arm.

Mr. Yardley hurried away from them, and she watched as he jogged down the stairs, bobbing between people as they watched the ceiling rather than where they were walking.

Grace moved from the railing and walked down the corridor, peering in each room. The room called the Great Saloon seemed to be full of minerals and other such things—things she cared little for.

She peeked inside room nine. It held a great collection of shells. Shells were intriguing but not as interesting as plants. However, shells were surely preferable to deer if the plants were no longer housed in the museum.

As she turned to leave the room, she sucked in a breath. They were there, just past the shells. She released a relieved sigh. They had not wasted the trip after all.

“They’re in here.” Grace pulled Lady Evangeline and Lady Arabella inside and quickly past the shells and other minerals. But she pulled up short when they reached the first display of plants. “Oh, look, my ladies, we start with the most favorable of them…the cryptogamous plants,” Grace said after a quick once-over. She stopped in front of the first exhibit, staring at the drawings and then the specimens pressed between thin sheets of glass.

“Crypto what?” Lady Arabella asked.

Grace smiled. “My apologies. Cryptogamous plants are those that do not flower. My favorites are the ferns.”

Lady Arabella scrunched her nose up. “What is so special about ferns?”

Lady Evangeline nudged her sister in the ribs and gave her a wide-eyed look.

Grace smiled at both of them. “I know it seems odd, but I find them fascinating. I relate to them—” She noticed their curious looks and licked her lips. It was a close call. She’d very nearly exposed much more of her interest than was likely prudent. “Did you know ferns reproduce even though they do not have flowers or seeds as other plants do?”

Lady Evangeline’s eyes popped open widely when Grace said ‘reproduce’. She looked from side to side and in a lowered voice asked. “Then how does it happen?” It seemed she was not about to use the same word. It was likely something Grace should take under advisement.

She lifted a shoulder. “That, it would seem, is the mystery. It has not yet been discovered.” She lifted a finger. “Many suspect that ferns are some of the first plants—that they predate the flowering sorts.”

Both girls looked at her like she might be slightly mad. And perhaps she was, to a degree.

“I run to fetch a pamphlet, and you continue on without me?” Mr. Yardley moved in beside her, his breath a bit winded. “How are you to know what you are even looking at?”

Grace glanced over at him, pure joy surely radiating from her features. She pointed to the ferns.

“Miss Jenkins was just telling us many interesting facts about ferns.” Lady Evangeline slightly raised her brows.

Grace closed her eyes for a moment. She should likely keep her enthusiasm to herself in the future. Had not Lady Haversham warned her of that?

“Yes,” Lady Arabella continued. “For example, did you know they predate flowering plants?” She did not sound appalled or like she was mocking. She sounded genuinely interested.

Mr. Yardley shook his head as he looked between the girls. “Perhaps we did not need this book after all.”

“It may prove useful in other parts of the museum,” Lady Evangeline said, pulling the book from his hands and thumbing through it.

Mr. Yardley peered at the next exhibit. “What have we in this case, Miss Jenkins?” His eyes twinkled, and for a moment Grace ignored her beloved ferns. He was a very handsome man. If not for his lack of title, she might have been tempted by his offer of last year.

She grinned at him, one brow raised pertly. “Is this to be a test, Mr. Yardley?” She looked through the glass.

He waggled his brows. “I believe it shall, Miss Jenkins. Why do you not amaze me with your knowledge?”

Grace’s heart fluttered. Why did it do that when he looked at her just so? She swallowed and turned back to the case. “There is a moss, there at the top. And there are several fungi—” she glanced side-eyed at him— “or rather mushrooms, there in the middle.” She smiled wickedly at him. “And there below are liverworts and hornworts. I like those almost as much as ferns.”

He plucked the booklet from Lady Evangeline’s hands. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that said in my life.” He laughed but then lowered the pamphlet slightly. He lifted his chin. “I am afraid you must be more specific on the mushrooms for me to accept your answer.”

Grace grinned. “Oh?” She met his eyes in challenge. “There is a lovely example of a Boletus edulis , an Amanita phalloides , and a Fomes fomentarius .”

Mr. Yardley clapped, the pamphlet fluttering between his hands. “Well done, Miss Jenkins. I’m most impressed.”

She beamed. This was not the first time she had received praise. Her father and Philip were generous in that regard. But it felt more deserved when it came from Mr. Yardley.

They walked around the rest of the room, and Grace told Mr. Yardley and his sisters about the different plants. There were Scarlet Swamp hibiscus from the West Indies and bamboo from China. Each one thrilling and lovely.

Mr. Yardley and his sisters were kind and acted as interested as Grace, but she knew they did not feel the same enthusiasm. Still, they did not once complain. Even after more than an hour in the stale, odorous room, Mr. Yardley still nodded and asked her questions.

She thought he must be a rarity among gentlemen. She’d met no one who so patiently listened to things he cared so little about. He was just the sort of gentleman she wished to marry. But was there such a man among the titled? She’d seen little to make her hope it to be true. But then, she should not judge all the aristocracy on the behavior of Lord Dunsmore.

They reached the end of the herbarium exhibit, and Mr. Yardley looked down at her. “We have seen them all. Are you satisfied, or do you wish to revisit something?”

Grace shook her head. “I may come back another time, but for now, I’m very satisfied.”

Mr. Yardley rubbed his hands together. “Shall we move on to Townley’s collection? That is what I am most eager to see.”

Grace folded her arms. “You are certain that is what you wish to see? You are not saying that for my benefit?” She lifted her thumb but dropped it when the fabric of her gloves touched her lips. “I will not be angry if we see something else. We’ve taken up plenty of our time visiting what I wished to see.”

Mr. Yardley tapped the tip of her nose with his finger, and an odd sort of tingle started in her chest. But he seemed to realize what he’d done and yanked his hand back with a scowl.

“We are not going there for you, Miss Jenkins. We are going there for me. It just so happens that you desire to see the same exhibit as I do.”

The knot forming in her stomach loosened. “Very well. If you promise that you wish to see them, too.”

“I should like to see it, also,” Lady Evangeline said, only then making Grace remember the girls were with them.

“You see?” He gave her exaggerated wide eyes. “Now, that collection is in the gallery, and we only have a few hours before the museum closes, so we must hurry.”