Page 28 of A Trial of His Affections (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #2)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

G race stepped into the entryway of Eaton House and unfastened the buttons on her spencer as she handed it and her bonnet to the footman. She was feeling rather pleased. She’d attended a dinner party the evening before and had returned home with her gown no worse for wear—a first by her account. But that was not half as pleasant as the invitation she’d received this morning to take tea with Evie and Ari.

She clasped her hands in front of her as she waited for the butler to take her to see her young friends.

“Miss Jenkins?” Lord Kentwood said from the staircase.

She smiled at the earl. “Good day, my lord.” She curtsied as he walked down the last few steps and came to face her.

“It is good to see you. I had not realized you were in London until my daughters mentioned you the other day.” He pushed out his lips in thought. “Although now that I think on it, it’s possible Miles mentioned it at Christmastide. I’m afraid I don’t always pay attention to idle prattle.”

Grace smiled, uncertain whether to be amused or affronted that the mention of her name should be dismissed as either idle or prattle. But she pushed the thought aside. “It’s no matter, my lord.” She glanced toward the corridor. “I’ve come to have tea with Lady Evangeline and Lady Arabella.”

He smiled, and it seemed genuine. “And I must thank you for that. I’m afraid they are often required to keep to the house, a task which has proved rather vexing for them. Your presence is much appreciated.”

Grace dipped her head. “I enjoy their company, my lord.”

“Good, good,” he said dismissively. “I shall keep you no longer.”

Grace did not take the time to be offended by it. She moved over to the butler and looked at him expectantly.

He bowed to Lord Kentwood and motioned toward the corridor. “The ladies are in the back garden, Miss. If you will follow me.”

Grace smiled in Lord Kentwood’s direction one last time, but he’d already turned his back to her.

The butler pushed through the terrace doors and led her over to a shaded spot under a large elm tree where a small table and three chairs sat. Ari and Evie already occupied two of them.

Evie spotted Grace first. She sprang from her seat and met her in the middle of the lawn. “Grace, you have come!” She wrapped her hands around Grace’s arm and led her to the table.

“This is quite a lovely garden.” Grace admired the plantings and their arrangement. “I should think you would spend hours in it.”

Ari looked dismissively at it. “I should wonder why. There is nothing so remarkable about it.”

Grace sucked in a breath. “How can you say such things?” She shook her head. “Surely you do not know what you have here.” She moved over and knelt before a large fern. Indeed, if Grace could plant her own garden, she would see it had at least one of that variety. “This is Hart’s-Tongue fern, and it is one of my favorites.”

“Are not all ferns your favorite?” Ari asked with suspicion.

“I suppose they are. But it’s only because they are all so remarkable.” She held the delicate frond in her hand and pointed to the leaves. “Many people do not realize it is a fern because each frond is a singular leaf as opposed to this one.” She picked up the frond of another fern. “This is a Lady Fern, which is what I believe most think of when they hear of ferns.”

Ari blinked at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. But Evie just smiled, a knowing look in her eye. “That is why I invited you. I wished to hear what you would say about them.”

Grace’s face warmed with embarrassment. “I really should learn to speak less of them. But I enjoy them very much. And as we are friends—” she paused. What if she believed their relationship to be more than it was? Had she not done precisely that with Lady Haversham?

Evie nodded. “Indeed. If you cannot speak freely among friends, where can you?”

A maid came out with a heavily laden tray, saving Grace from having to comment any more on the subject, but she was relieved to know that she had not misread the situation. Although she should not have questioned if Evie or Ari were like Lady Haversham. They were not of the same ilk as the lady.

The maid placed the tray on the table and bobbed a curtsy before moving back into the house.

Grace stood up and brushed at her skirts.

Evie poured out the tea and handed a cup to Grace. “We thought some biscuits would not go amiss.”

Grace reached for one and took a bite. They were very good. The cook of Eaton House was very skilled.

Ari gave Grace an appraising look. “I’ve never known a lady to have such a peculiar interest. From what I’ve seen—which is very little, I’ll admit—most ladies are more singularly focused on things such as ribbons and the latest fashions.” She stared at Grace as if seeing her in a new light. “It’s something I’ll have to think on and how it might fit into my life.”

Grace studied Ari. Sometimes she quite forgot the girl was only twelve years old. Most times she acted much older than her age. Was that because she grew up without a mother for much of her life? Or because she’d been surrounded by adults and had not been allowed to be a child? She did not know whether to pity or congratulate her.

They chatted about the changing weather and how it would affect their plans in the coming months. Ari seemed to think it would only make their life more difficult. But Evie seemed to think it agreeable because it meant she could spend more time reading under the elm tree.

“Perhaps I’ll take more of an interest in the plant life,” Evie said.

Grace lit in excitement. “I can recommend some very good books, if you are in earnest.”

Ari let out a strangled sound. “Could anything be duller than reading a book about plants? Where is the excitement in that?”

Evie must have kicked her sister under the table because Ari yelped and leaned forward to rub at her shin.

Grace smiled. “You need not correct her, Evie. I understand botany is not for everyone. And that is as it should be. If everyone’s interests were the same, would it not be dreadfully dull?” She turned to Ari. “What interests you, Ari?”

Ari sat for a moment, a finger over her lips. “I like to paint.”

Grace smiled. “As do I. I’m more partial to watercolors.”

“I like watercolors, too, but I also enjoy pencils.”

“You know,” Grace leaned slightly forward, “it might be diverting if we work together to make some lovely fern pictures. We could both make the illustrations, and I could write the description. I’ve longed to create such a book.” She sat up and snapped her mouth shut. She had told no one about her desire—except for Miles. She mentioned it to him in passing while at the Apothecary’s Garden.

Lawks, what was it about Miles and his sisters that set her at her ease enough to share her deepest desires?

“I think it a lovely idea. Perhaps when we all return to Somerset, you could begin.” Evie put her cup down and picked up a package off the gravel next to her. She handed it to Grace. “We have a small gift for you.”

Grace looked at the brown paper parcel in Evie’s hands. She shook her head. “I cannot accept it. It is too much.”

“But you don’t even know what it is,” Ari complained.

Grace licked at her lips. Her curiosity was pushing her to at least open it before she refused it. But even that seemed inappropriate.

“Come now, it’s not very much. Just a small trinket that we picked up because it reminded us of you.” Evie put the package on the table in front of Grace. “Are we not friends? It’s not improper for friends to buy each other gifts.”

“But I have nothing for you,” Grace frowned. “I cannot accept such generosity.”

Ari pushed the package closer, so it sat just on the edge of the table. “At least open it. If you dislike it, you need not take it.”

Grace looked at both of them. Would it be so wrong? They were friends, after all. “I cannot imagine I will dislike it.” In truth, she very much wished to open it. She’d never had such close friends—ones that exchanged gifts with one another.

She reached forward and pulled at the twine bow. The paper fell open to reveal a beautiful, tortoiseshell comb.

Grace sucked in a breath. Was it real tortoiseshell or was it faux? She was not versed enough in the subject to know for certain.

She ran her fingers over the engraved fern fronds and looked up at Ari and Evie. They both looked into the package as if seeing what lay inside for the first time. Although how could that be if they had bought it?

She bit her cheek, and a thought struck her. What if they were not the ones who bought it? It did feel rather like something Miles would purchase for her. Only he surely knew it was not something he could give to her. Knowing that, she should surely decline the gift.

Could Miles have purchased it? He knew of her affinity for ferns. And did he not feel responsible for the necessity of her cutting her hair? The comb seemed just the thing he would buy her as penance—even if she didn’t think he needed forgiveness for the accident.

But could he mean anything else by it? If it were real tortoiseshell, it might indicate stronger feelings. But it surely was faux. Had not Evie said it was just a small trinket? No one would ever consider real tortoiseshell a mere trinket.

She rubbed her fingers over it, enjoying the smooth, cool feel. Surely, it was faux. But Grace didn’t care if it was faux. It was quite the loveliest thing she owned, and she loved it.

“I should not accept it.” She ran her finger over the frond again. “But it is too lovely a gift for me to decline.” She knew she was being improper, but she could not stop herself. “Thank you. I adore it.” She tucked it into her hair, unconcerned whether or not it sat perfectly.

“I’m glad you like it,” Miles’ deep voice sounded behind her. “Evie was rather excited to give it to you.”

Grace turned, and her eyes locked on him. She’d hoped he might come but had not thought it likely.

His lips turned up in the smile she found so comforting. It was the smile of someone who cared what happened to her. And even if it were only as a friend, she would take it whole-heartedly.

“I know I should not accept it,” she lifted her hand to touch it.

“But you should,” he said, watching her. “Especially when it looks so well in your hair.”

“It was kind of your sisters to purchase it for me.” She held his gaze.

He nodded. “The moment they saw it, they knew you must have it.”

“I hope they know how much I like it.” Her voice dropped lower.

“I’m certain they do,” his tone matched hers.

“Yes, we do,” Ari said loudly and pointedly.

Grace whipped around and stared at the girls. Lawks, why did she find it so easy to forget her surroundings when she was with Miles?

She smiled and released a nervous sort of chuckle. “Yes, well, thank you to both of you.”

From beneath her lashes, Grace thought she saw Miles mouth the same words to Evie.

Evie smiled knowingly and dipped her head ever so slightly to her brother. “Seeing how well it looks on you, I’m glad we chose the one we did.” She picked up her teacup. “Are you staying for tea, Miles?”

He settled into the last chair on the circular gravel terrace. “I should not decline a cup.”

Evie poured out the last cup and handed it over to him. Had she planned on him being there all along? Why else had the maid brought a fourth cup? Regardless, Grace could not be unhappy for it.

A throat cleared, and Grace jerked her gaze back to Evie. Her face warmed when she realized she’d be staring at him. Again.