Page 9 of A Trial of His Affections (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #2)
Chapter Nine
M iles stood from the table and looked around. It had been an intimate evening with just Jenkins, his wife, Grace, and Miles. It was just the type of dinner Miles both loved and hated. It meant he had Grace’s undivided attention. But it also meant he could not watch her as closely as he could in larger groups. Every look and movement was more obvious in this small group setting. But even so, he preferred it to the alternative.
“Will you join us in the drawing room, Mr. Yardley?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.
Miles smiled. “Of course.” He fell in step with Philip as they walked down the corridor. “How many horses are you putting up at Tattersalls?”
Philip’s eyes brightened as they usually did when speaking of his horses. “A dozen. Although I’ve only brought six with me, I will fetch the others in a month or two. The mews here are not as large as those at Graystone.”
“They are all fine horseflesh. I’m certain they will fetch a handsome price.” Miles stayed close to Philip when they walked into the drawing room, but his gaze flicked several times to where Grace sat on the couch.
“There is already much interest in four of the six.” He looked pleased, and Miles could not blame him. The life Jenkins led was surely different from what he imagined for himself only ten years earlier. “I have high hopes for this Season.” Philip tipped his head toward the couch. “In all areas.”
Miles followed his motion, his gaze resting on Grace. “She made quite a splash at the ball last evening.”
Philip shrugged. “She is not so certain of that. I believe she imagined that after her introduction to society, the invitations would come in droves.”
Miles patted his friend on the shoulder. “Be patient. I’m certain they will come.” His throat tightened. “She was already invited on an outing, was she not?”
Philip grinned. “Indeed, two outings.” He lifted his brows. “While she would never admit it, I believe your outing to the museum is the one she is looking forward to most.”
Miles perked up. “Oh?”
“Grace has always shown a certain intellect. You likely never saw it in Somerset, as she was under the influence of Miss Martindale. But since the lady married and quit the county, Grace has returned to her more thoughtful and intellectual self. I find her more oft than not with her nose in a book.”
Miles looked back at her, seeing her with new eyes. “She is something of a bluestocking, then?” He rather liked that notion. Indeed, he could almost see the two of them spending quiet evenings together. He with his cause notes and her with a book. But just what kind of book would she read?
“I do not think she wishes for word of that to reach any of her would-be suitors. She seems to think no man of quality would appreciate a thinking wife.”
Miles looked away, afraid Philip might see the guilt etched on Miles’ face. “Those who feel that way are not the minority, I’m afraid. But some gentlemen would welcome an intelligent young lady.”
They moved over to the settee, and Philip settled in next to his wife, who worked on a stitchery. She frowned down at it as she worked out a knot.
Miles sat on the other end of the couch from Grace.
Her brow creased, and her lips moved silently as she read.
Miles leaned slightly toward her, trying to see what held her so captivated. But he could not see the small writing from his vantage point.
His movement must have caught her notice because she glanced up at him. “Mr. Yardley?” She looked at him askance.
“I wonder at the novel that holds your attention so completely.”
She looked at him, and he could not decipher what it meant. Was she studying him? Did she think him insincere or mocking? Perhaps she was simply wondering if she could confide in him. Philip had said she did not wish for people to know of her intelligence—which was complete twaddle.
“It is not a novel.” She closed the book and turned it so he could see it.
Miles’ brows rose. “ Historia Plantarum by Theophrastus.” He paused. “And in Latin no less.” Philip had rather understated her intelligence. “I do not know many young ladies who often read books in Latin. Especially not books about plants.”
Grace licked her lips. “I find them interesting.” She ran her fingers over the embossed lettering on the cover. “I’d heard of this book. It’s one of the first books written exclusively on plants, but I’d never found it. I’m afraid even the older copies are much too costly for me to afford. But imagine my surprise when I found it in the library here.”
“When did you learn Latin?” Miles knew she had gone to a girls’ school, but he hadn’t thought it the sort to teach such things as Latin.
“I learned the basics at Mrs. Bootle’s,”
“But she continued to study it on her own.” Philip looked at his sister with pride.
She bit the side of her cheek. “I confess, I’m not as proficient as I should like. That is why it’s taking me so long to read. I have to reread passages several times to understand the whole of it.”
“You’re too modest, Grace,” Mrs. Jenkins smiled. “You do very well. You only found that book last week, and you’re already a third of the way through it. Considering how little time you’ve had to read, I do not think you have anything to apologize for.”
Miles shook his head. “Indeed, do not diminish your accomplishments. Many would not persevere. Especially not for plants.”
She frowned at him. “What is wrong with plants? Do you not like them?”
He lifted his hands up in front of him in a sort of surrender. “I like them well enough. But I’ve never taken the time to study them in depth.” He tilted his head toward her. “What about them captivates you?”
She lifted a delicate shoulder. “I believe it started with flowers. I love flowers, as I’m certain most ladies do. But it was more than just their scent or their colorful nature. I enjoyed studying their structure and form. I think they just speak to me—” She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes, and her mouth pinched shut. “I just like them,” she finished tentatively.
“Then, flowers are what you study most?” He asked, wanting to draw her out more. He very much liked the Grace he’d known before he left for Berkshire last year. But this was a side he’d never seen, and he could not say it lessened his interest. Indeed, he found it a fascinating new facet.
“Actually, I prefer ferns above all else.” She glanced away from him, as if she were afraid she’d told him too much. “I only own a few books on the subject, but I have borrowed several from the lending library. I am not an expert in the field, but…” she trailed off.
Miles sat back and folded his arms. What a marvelous revelation. “Which books do you own?”
“There is only one that is exclusive to ferns. It’s a collection of lectures from the Somerset Botanical Society. Several years ago, they had a series focused solely on ferns.” She released a wistful sigh. “I only wish I had attended them. But it was long before I was interested in such things. And I was away at school.” She looked back at him, her gaze hooded. “But I’m grateful to have the printed versions.” She looked at the book in her lap. “My only other book is Flora Londinensis by William Curtis. The book has several sections on ferns. I only received it since coming to London. I look forward to seeing for myself what he wrote about while I’m here. I enjoy all plants, so it was a welcome gift.” She glanced at her brother and sister-in-law, making Miles think they had been the ones to gift her the book.
“I should think it was most welcome.” He smiled. “We shall have to make certain we spend a fair amount of time in the herbarium when we visit the British Museum.”
Grace’s eyes lit in excitement. “I confess, it is the part of the museum I’m most looking forward to visiting.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “Do you know if Lord Dunsmore likes plants?”
Before he could stop himself, Miles let out a laugh. “I can’t imagine he’s ever thought about them beyond if they look good in a bouquet.” At the fall of Grace’s countenance, Miles schooled his features. “But perhaps it’s because no one has spoken of them with such passion to him before.”
She breathed in through her nose, her head nodding thoughtfully. “Yes, perhaps that is why.” She continued to frown. “But it might be best if I wait before I share my passion with him.”
Miles nodded. He wanted to encourage her in the matter to make himself appear more amiable because he was certain Dunsmore would surely make his opinion on her intelligence known. But Miles couldn’t bring himself to suggest she expose herself to the mean-spirited rebuff. “That is likely a wise decision. It may be best to view this initial outing as a means of introduction.”
She looked down at her hands. This new Grace was quieter than the one he’d known previously. Or perhaps she was just more contemplative? Had the outspoken Grace only been due to the influence of Miss Martindale? Perhaps she’d had more influence on Grace than he’d realized. But what did that mean for him? Or for Grace? Did he prefer the old Grace or the new one?
She smiled. “It’s no matter if he likes plants or not. I don’t believe a gentleman and lady must have everything in common. That would be boring, would it not?”
Miles lifted a single brow. Why must she continue to ask his opinion on things pertaining to the dreaded Lord Dunsmore? “I suppose you are correct.” He looked at Philip and his wife. “What of you and your wife, Jenkins? Do you have everything in common?”
They chuckled. “I should think not,” Philip said with a smile and a fond look at his wife.
Miles’ heart tugged in his chest. Why could he not have something like that with a woman? With Grace? He glanced at Grace from the corners of his eyes. Perhaps if he relented and gave up his hopes that she would come around, he could have something like that with another. But would he ever be able to commit to another woman when all he thought about was Grace? It seemed ill-fated before it even began.
“Elle has very little interest in horses, do you, my love?”
She put her stitchery to the side and leaned closer to her husband. “I’m interested in them enough to extol my husband’s excellent training. And I enjoy riding them as much as any other lady. But that is as far as it goes.”
Philip grinned down at her. “And yet, we adore each other.” He turned his gaze back on his sister. “You need not have everything in common.”
Grace smiled, but it faltered when her brother continued.
“But for those things you do not share, there must needs be a respect by the other. If there is no respect, I cannot see how a relationship can be tolerable.”
Miles nodded. He could not agree more. And while he did not know of Dunsmore’s interest in plants, he knew the man. And Miles found it difficult to imagine that he would have any respect for plants. Indeed, he had little respect for anything but himself.
The guilt that had been his constant companion for weeks wriggled around in his gut. Lud, why had he allowed Freddie to convince him of the plan? But if he confessed now, it would surely end all his hopes with Grace.