Page 10 of An Unexpected Marriage with the Earl (Noble Gentlemen of the Ton #8)

Chapter 10

Johanna did not know what had prompted her to arrange the dinner for Edmund—a sense of neglect? A desire for intimacy? Or simply for something to break the monotony of her day-to-day routine? She had not mentioned any of these to the dowager, but Edmund’s mother had been only too pleased to lend her the brooch, telling her she was right to put a stop to the earl dining alone.

“It’s not good for him. And it’s not good for you, either. You’re a young married couple, you should be delighting in one another’s company, not keeping yourselves apart,” she had said.

She was right, of course, and Johanna had begun to fear the promise made by Edmund at the ball had been merely for show. She had taken a risk in arranging the dinner, fearing he would laugh at her, or simply refuse her. But in the honesty of their conversation, it felt to Johanna as though they had come to a new understanding—and a new intimacy, too.

“I trust you had an enjoyable evening together?” the dowager asked, when she entered the dining room the next morning at breakfast to find Johanna and Edmund finishing their coffee.

“Very enjoyable, thank you, Mother,” Edmund replied, glancing at Johanna and smiling.

“I’m going to go to Greenwich this morning and visit Lady Mirabel. She’s not having an easy time with things at the moment. Her husband’s being so difficult with her,” the dowager said.

There was an implication in her tone—that Johanna and Edmund would join her in this act of charity. But to Johanna’s relief, the earl merely nodded.

“Yes, that sounds lovely, Mother. Johanna and I are going to Kew—the gardens there are magnificent,” he said, glancing again at Johanna, who smiled.

“Oh, that would be wonderful. I’ve read about the gardens, but I’d love to see them for myself,” she said.

The dowager looked somewhat perturbed.

“I see...yes, very well. I’m sure the two of you will have a lovely time,” she said, sitting down at the table as one of the footmen stepped forward to pour her a cup of coffee.

Johanna and Edmund now rose from the table, and Edmund held out his hand, allowing Johanna to go first as they left the dining room together.

“Are you sure you’ve got time for such an excursion?” Johanna asked, for she did not want him to sacrifice duty for her sake—or to do so under duress.

“I’ve made time. I want to,” he replied, smiling at her.

Now, they readied themselves for their departure, and it was not long before they were in a carriage, heading in the direction of the gardens at Kew. Johanna was excited at the prospect of seeing what she had only read about in books, and the earl talked enthusiastically of the plants they would see, and the ideas they would gain for the gardens at Beaumont Abbey.

“It’s really a blank canvas. My mother was never very interested in the grounds—she prefers drawing rooms to rose gardens. But I know of your love of horticulture, and I was hoping you might take the gardens on as a project. You said you were finding it difficult to know what a countess does all day—I feel the same way about being an earl. I seem to have lots to do, but I’m never really sure if what I’m doing is the right thing,” Edmund said as they rode in the carriage together.

The idea of having a garden of her own delighted Johanna. At Wilton Grange, her mother had been only too glad to allow Johanna’s love of horticulture to find its expression in the garden, but she had still maintained a modicum of control, refusing some of Johanna’s more advanced ideas and tempering her ambitions when it came to the likes of water features and follies.

“I don’t want a garden resembling ancient Greece—they were far too free with their exotic sculpture,” she had once said, when Johanna had suggested a folly in the style of the temple of the muses.

“And I’d have complete control of the design and the planting?” Johanna said, and Edmund nodded.

“You know far more about these things than I do. I’d trust you to create something beautiful—I know you’d do so. There’s the orangery, too. It’s been neglected for so many years, but it’s got great potential. You could see it as a project once we return home. Though there’s the small matter of the Beaumont Dinner,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Johanna smiled. The Beaumont Dinner was something the dowager had mentioned on the day of their arrival in London—almost in the first breath. It was an annual society event, hosted by the Beaumont family in London, and traditionally organized by the incumbent duchess.

“But since you’re new to all of this, I’ll take the lead in making the arrangements,” the dowager had said, and Johanna had found herself swept along in her wake as the preparations had been made.

“I’m sure your mother’s got it all in hand,” Johanna replied, and the earl laughed.

“Oh, yes...I’m sure she has. But it should be you who takes charge of it, Johanna—not her. I’m sorry if you feel she’s somewhat taken over,” he said, but Johanna shook her head.

“I don’t mind. It’s hers to do as she pleases with. I don’t know anything about such things,” she said, but Edmund shook his head.

“You’re the Countess of Beaumont now, Johanna—not my mother. She needs to realize that and stop taking over. I know she means well, but I don’t want you to feel trapped,” he said.

Johanna nodded. The dowager could be overbearing at times, but her heart was in the right place.

“Perhaps I could concentrate my efforts on the orangery and the garden. When I was visiting the gardens at Villa d’Este on the Italian peninsula, I came away with so many wonderful ideas,” Johanna replied.

She recalled the sunken gardens with their deep pools, overhung by shady myrtle and juniper trees, the scent of which perfumed the air. It was Johanna’s dream to have a garden like that—tempered by the English climate, of course.

Edmund smiled. “And perhaps you’ll take some ideas from Kew, too. Look, we’re here now,” he said, pointing out of the carriage window.

For the next few hours, the two of them explored the gardens, promenading arm in arm. They greeted other couples doing the same, smiling and nodding to one another as though sharing that same sense of romance as they saw in others. It pleased Johanna to find herself with Edmund in this way. They were like any other couple, laughing with one another and enjoying the shared delights of the garden. It was a beautiful place—magnificent borders, filled with flowers of every color and shade, tall trees, hedged avenues, and places to sit by bubbling fountains and elegant statues.

“I’m so glad we came here. It’s been wonderful,” Johanna said as they walked back toward the carriage to return to Beaumont House.

“I feel the same—and not only for the gardens,” he said, smiling at Johanna, who blushed.

“Oh...yes,” Johanna said, feeling suddenly shy in his presence.

Something had changed between them—a new sense of intimacy. Their conversation had been easy and his company a delight. There had been no sense of effort or duty involved. It had seemed to Johanna as though the earl genuinely desired her company, and she had felt the same.

“I mean it, Johanna. I’m so glad we shared this time together,” he said, and Johanna smiled.

“I am, too,” she replied.

At the entrance to the gardens was a stall selling flowers—cuttings from the borders, arranged in brightly colored bouquets, and Edmund now paused, purchasing the largest of the arrangements and presenting them to Johanna with a smile.

“For your sitting room—they have a beautiful perfume,” he said.

It was a small gesture, but one that meant so much. Had theirs been a conventional courtship, perhaps this might have been the first step toward romance, a tentative second meeting after an introduction at a ball or dinner. But in the case of Johanna and Edmund, everything was reversed. They were married, and yet the day they had spent at Kew had felt like a beginning—a delightful beginning, but a beginning, nonetheless. Something had changed between them, a sense of shared feelings for one another, beyond that of the practicalities of the previous months.

“That’s very kind of you,” Johanna said, breathing in the sweet scent of the flowers.

“I’m glad you like them,” he said, their eyes meeting as he continued to smile at her.

Johanna felt a shiver run through her at his gaze, and now he placed his hand on hers, turning to lead her back to the waiting carriage. But as he did so, Johanna was surprised by the sight of Wilhelmina and her daughter emerging from the gardens behind them. She had not realized they were there, and now she wondered if they had been following them the whole time—but for what reason? Memories of her previous jealous thoughts now returned as Lavinia waved with a look of surprise—real or imagined—on her face.

“Oh, look, Mother—it’s Edmund and Johanna!” she exclaimed, hurrying over to greet them with her mother following behind.

“Well, now, isn’t this a coincidence?” Wilhelmina exclaimed.

She was older, of course, and yet Johanna was well aware of the fact she outranked Wilhelmina by some considerable distance. The wife of a member of Parliament was hardly comparable to a countess, and it pleased Johanna to think she had the advantage, even as Lavinia smiled flirtatiously at Edmund.

“It certainly seems so,” Johanna replied, though she did not believe it was a coincidence at all.

“And flowers, Johanna—he must truly love you,” Lavinia said.

It seemed a strange thing to say, as though she was doubting the sincerity of the match, and Johanna could not help but feel a sense of paranoia, remembering what Tabitha had told her at the ball. Was it really believed she was with child? The very thought of it was extraordinary, even as to deny it would only lead to further rumors.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they? Did you enjoy the gardens? I didn’t think you had an interest in horticulture,” Johanna said.

Lavinia smiled.

“Oh, yes. I’m very interested in...plants and so on. One should be, shouldn’t one? Mother says I need to know such things for when I’m married. One can’t let one’s husband concern himself with such things, can one?” she said.

She sounded ridiculous—all this talk of preparing “oneself” for life as the wife of an aristocrat. Was that truly her sole ambition? If it was, Johanna wondered why she should be so concerned to act flirtatiously toward Edmund. He was her husband, and he would certainly not become Lavinia’s.

“No, one can’t,” Johanna replied.

“But I suppose such responsibilities aren’t for everyone, are they?” Lavinia said, looking pointedly at Johanna as though she was referring to her.

“I think it’s more a case of shared responsibilities. A husband and wife shouldn’t exist separately. Marriage is a union—it gives responsibility to both sides, as well as rights,” Johanna replied.

She was hoping to sound diplomatic, and Lavinia nodded.

“I suppose you’re right, Johanna—and what would I know? You’re the one who’s happily married,” she replied.

Johanna did not care for Lavinia’s tone. She was mocking her—challenging her to deny it. Johanna knew what mother and daughter both were thinking—that there was no truth in the show of the flowers and affectionate looks. But in this, they were wrong, and Johanna had no intention of allowing it to be thought the marriage was only for convenience, or worse, because of a child conceived out of wedlock.

“We are. Very much so,” Johanna said, glancing at Edmund, who nodded.

“We were just talking about the design for the gardens at Beaumont Abbey. You’d both be very welcome to the unveiling of the new orangery we have planned. It’s a renovation, long overdue,” Edmund said tactfully, it seemed, changing the subject.

Lavinia glanced at her mother, who nodded.

“Ah, yes, we’d be delighted. But you’re not leaving London just yet, I hope?” Lavinia asked.

“Not just yet, no. There’s the Beaumont Dinner to organize…” Edmund said, stopping himself as it seemed he realized in mentioning the dinner, he would have to invite Wilhelmina and her daughter.

But Lavinia appeared oblivious to his words, interrupting him with her own invitation.

“We’re holding a masquerade. You must both come. It’s next Friday evening. I adore masquerades. Don’t you?” she said.

Johanna did enjoy masquerade balls. Her aunt had taken her to one in Venice during their travels—a spectacle of extravagant masks and elaborate costumes. But the thought of attending Lavinia’s masquerade did not have the same appeal, even as Johanna feared they could not easily refuse the invitation.

“Yes, I do…” Johanna replied truthfully.

“Then that’s settled, then. Seven o’clock at our house in Mayfair. Edmund knows where it is. Don’t you, Edmund?” Lavinia said, and Edmund nodded, blushing under Lavinia’s gaze.

They now parted ways, Lavinia casting a smiling glance back toward Johanna as she and Edmund climbed into the waiting carriage.

“I’m sorry—I couldn’t very well refuse her,” Edmund said as they set off toward Beaumont House.

Johanna shook her head and sighed.

“I know...I just worry what’s being said about us, that’s all. Lavinia...well, she seems persistent in her attentions toward you. I can only hope Roger doesn’t pursue a match with her,” Johanna said.

She had not meant her words to sound like a challenge, even as Edmund now blushed. Nor did Johanna feel any pride in the persisting jealousy she felt toward Lavinia. In her mind, she had created a rivalry, and despite Edmund’s entirely innocent behavior toward Lavinia, Johanna could not help but feel Lavinia’s own behavior to be less than innocent…

“I should be honest with you, Johanna. There was a time when Lavinia and I might’ve...well, when there was something more between us. It was never made public, of course. Roger knows nothing about it. I broke it off, though. She’s a difficult woman, easily moved to jealousy. I feel nothing for her now, I promise you,” he said.

Johanna nodded. She was not surprised—there had to be an underlying reason for Lavinia’s persistence. If anything, it made more sense now, even as Johanna feared Lavinia was not yet over the fact of their having parted ways. But in denying his feelings for Lavinia, Edmund had raised a different question—perhaps unintentionally—and it was one Johanna pondered as they made their way back to Beaumont House. If he no longer had feelings for Lavinia, did that mean his feelings for her were growing stronger?