Page 35 of A Trial of His Affections (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #2)

Miles opened the terrace doors and stepped outside. “Welcome to Berkshire, Mrs. Yardley.” He slid his arm around Grace’s waist and pulled her to him. At last, Ashmere Grange felt like home. But only because Grace was at his side. She was his home.

“Berkshire is lovely, Miles.” She breathed in deeply.

“We will have to spend much of our time in London, but I thought I should at least introduce you to our country estate.”

She wrapped her arms around his middle and sighed contentedly as she leaned against him. It has quickly become one of his favorite sounds.

He had not enjoyed her closeness for long when she straightened and pulled away from him. “What is happening over there?” She pointed toward the west side of the lawn.

He grinned down at her and took her hand in his. “I wondered when you would take note of that. Come with me and I’ll show you. I hope you find it to your liking.”

They walked, hand in hand, toward the brickwork walls going up. Miles was impressed with the workers. They were nearly complete at thirty hands high. It was no small task considering the quick time frame he’d given them.

Grace looked up at him as they neared it. “What is it to be? The door is not big enough for a stable.”

He pulled her to a stop and moved behind her, his chin resting on her head. “It’s not a stable.” He paused, enjoying the suspense a moment longer. “The little wooden door I ordered should be here by week’s end. And then, you may have at it.”

She turned in his arms and gave him a curious look. “Have at what?”

He took her hand once again and pulled her through the empty doorway. They stood among turned-up soil and clumps of grass. “Did you not wish to study in the Apothecary’s Garden? You asked once if you could pass as a gentleman. And while I still hold that you would not pass as one even with your Titus cut, I do not wish for you to get any such ideas in that head of yours.” He grinned. “I thought if you had your own walled Apothecary’s Garden, perhaps it would suffice?”

She spun around and looked at him with wide eyes. “You cannot mean it. This is all mine?”

He nodded. “I realize it is not much yet, but I believe you can make it grand. And perhaps once it is finished, we shall send an invitation to Mr. Peters to come and visit. Or if you prefer it to be some other kind of garden, that is fine too. It may be whatever you want it to be.”

She grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, Miles. I’ve never received anything so…so wonderful.” She gave him a sly smile. “Except for you, of course.”

He chuckled. “Ah, yes. I am the exception.”

She turned in a slow circle, taking in the whole garden. He could almost see her planning each bed in her mind. “I think a path should go down the middle, but have smaller paths branching off in all directions.” The ideas flitting across her face. “I’m not certain I can have all the ailments represented as in the Apothecary’s Garden. But I believe the basic ones are possible. Perhaps we can speak with the apothecary in the village and get his opinion. See what he would find helpful.” Her eyes darted from one corner to the next.

“I should be able to secure us another admission to the Apothecary’s Garden while we are in London. Perhaps Mr. Peters would allow you to purchase some seeds from them to get you started?”

She nodded. “I’m certain we could even find some seeds at one of the shops in the village.” She grinned. “And now that I know how to grow rhubarb over the winter,” her eyes sparkled. But then she frowned. “I hardly know where to start.”

Miles pulled her over to the corner nearest the door. “Why do you not start here?” He leaned around her and whistled and then called, “Jones, it’s time.” A man in dirty, worn clothes, pushing a wheelbarrow, appeared in the doorway. A large tree and several fern fronds hung over the edges. “I know you may not wish to mimic the Apothecary’s Garden completely, but I thought these plants could get you started.”

Grace let out a squeal. “Oh, Miles. You bought me ferns.”

He nodded. “I realize the blackthorn tree was with the fever plants. But I could not remember the name of the one by the ferns.”

Sliding her hands around his middle, she pulled him to her and squeezed him tight. “It will do just fine, Miles. They are compatible.”

She buried her face in his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“Are you well?” He asked.

She nodded and looked up at him with moist eyes. “I’ve never been better.”

He released her long enough to run a finger under her eye, catching the tear that escaped. “Nor have I.” He smiled as his heart swelled inside his chest. His words felt woefully inadequate to express how he truly felt. Instead of searching for the right ones, he moved his finger under her chin and tipped her head back slightly. Dropping his head, he kissed her firmly on the lips, hoping it would tell her—as his words could not—how he felt about her and their new life together.

She sucked in a deep breath and twisted in his arms so she could look out over the dirt. “It will be a wonderful garden, Miles. I promise.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” He wrapped his arms around her again, and leaned over, resting his chin on her shoulder. “We do not need to return to London for a fortnight. Do you think you’ll have enough time to do much with it before we leave?”

She nodded emphatically. “You will hardly recognize it by the time we return to London.”

“Then it is to be like us, is it?”

She looked at him with questioning eyes.

He grinned. “Indeed, I hardly recognize us.” He looked at her in amazement, barely able to believe that after all they had been through, she was finally his—that they had weathered the storm that was their courtship. “We are not the same people who dined together at Christmastide.”

Grace had once said she was like a fern—quiet, common, easy to pass by. But ferns, he’d come to learn, were anything but common. They were resilient, enduring, and capable of thriving in overlooked places. Indeed, they were rather remarkable. Just like their love—slow to take root, uncertain at first, but steady—unfolding leaf by patient leaf. “You know, my dear. I think I may have come to love ferns, almost as much as you do.”

She smiled up at him. “I knew you would come to see things my way.” She winked at him as she rolled up on her tiptoes and pulled his face down to hers.

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