Page 22 of Convincing Marianne (The Widows of Lavender Cottage #2)

Chapter Seventeen

M arianne had been enjoying a perfectly peaceful afternoon organizing her correspondence when Mrs. Smith announced the first visitor of what would prove to be a most eventful calling hour.

"Lord Pembroke to see you, my lady," Mrs. Smith said with the sort of meaningful expression that suggested she had opinions about the recent frequency of his visits.

"Of course," Marianne replied, setting aside her letters with resignation. "Please show him to the sitting room. And Mrs. Smith? Perhaps prepare extra tea. I have a feeling this afternoon may require... substantial refreshment."

Lord Pembroke entered with his usual easy confidence, carrying a small bouquet of late Michaelmas daisies and hardy geraniums that he'd clearly selected with care.

"Lady Marianne, you look radiant as always.

I hope you'll forgive the informality of these cottage blooms, but I noticed them growing wild near the lane and thought you might appreciate their. .. natural charm."

"How thoughtful," Marianne said, accepting the flowers and noting that they were, indeed, perfectly suited to her taste. Lord Pembroke had an unsettling talent for choosing exactly the right gesture. "Please, sit. I was just thinking how quiet the afternoon was."

"Was it?" Lord Pembroke settled into the chair across from her with obvious satisfaction. "Well, I hope my company provides a pleasant disruption to your solitude."

Before Marianne could respond, Mrs. Smith reappeared in the doorway looking slightly harried. "Lord Alton to see you, my lady."

Marianne blinked. "Lord Alton? But he was just... that is, I wasn't expecting..."

"Shall I tell him you're receiving?" Mrs. Smith asked with the sort of diplomatic neutrality that suggested she was finding the situation highly entertaining.

"Of course, show him in."

Lord Alton appeared moments later, carrying what appeared to be a small package and looking slightly surprised to find Lord Pembroke already comfortably settled in the sitting room.

"Lord Pembroke," he said with careful politeness. "I hadn't realized you were calling this afternoon."

"Lord Alton," Lord Pembroke replied with equal courtesy and perhaps a hint of territorial satisfaction. "What a pleasant coincidence. Lady Marianne and I were just discussing the beauty of autumn flowers."

"Flowers," Lord Alton repeated, his gaze taking in the bouquet with obvious assessment. "How... seasonal."

Marianne looked between the two men, both now seated in her sitting room, both clearly planning to stay, and felt the first stirrings of what promised to be a very long afternoon.

"Lord Alton, please sit," she said, gesturing to the remaining chair. "I believe Mrs. Smith is bringing additional tea."

"Actually," Lord Alton said, settling into his seat and placing his package on the side table, "I brought you something as well. The latest agricultural journal from London—there's an article about innovative approaches to crop rotation that I thought might interest you."

"Agricultural journals," Lord Pembroke observed with the sort of tone that suggested he found this gift choice fascinating rather than practical. "How... comprehensive of you, Lord Alton."

"I believe in nurturing Lady Marianne's intellectual interests," Lord Alton replied with just a hint of challenge in his voice.

"As do I," Lord Pembroke said smoothly. "Though I find that variety in intellectual stimulation prevents any single interest from becoming... overwhelming."

Marianne looked from flowers to agricultural journal and realized she was witnessing what appeared to be a polite battle over her educational needs.

"How considerate you both are," she said diplomatically. "I'm quite fond of both flowers and farming innovations."

Mrs. Smith appeared with an expanded tea service, took one look at the assembled gentlemen, and retreated with the expression of someone who had seen this sort of situation before and wanted no part of it.

"I was just about to suggest," Lord Pembroke said as Marianne poured tea, "that Lady Marianne might enjoy a turn around her gardens. The afternoon light is quite lovely, and I'm eager to see her horticultural accomplishments."

"Her gardens are exceptional," Lord Alton said immediately. "Beautifully planned, expertly maintained, a perfect example of practical design meeting aesthetic appeal."

"You've toured them already?" Lord Pembroke's eyebrows rose slightly.

"Lord Alton has been most helpful with advice about soil management," Marianne said quickly, though she noticed Lord Alton's expression suggested he was remembering their garden conversation with considerably more warmth than soil management would warrant.

"How fortunate," Lord Pembroke said. "Perhaps Lord Alton would join us for our garden walk? I'd value his expert perspective on Lady Marianne's techniques."

The suggestion hung in the air like a challenge. Lord Alton clearly hadn't been invited to join their walk, but declining now would amount to ceding the field to his rival.

"I'd be delighted to join you," Lord Alton said with the sort of military precision that suggested he was accepting a tactical mission rather than a social invitation.

Marianne was just contemplating the prospect of chaperoning a garden tour featuring two men who seemed determined to out-expertise each other when Mrs. Smith reappeared, looking even more harried than before.

"Mr. David Thornfield to see you, my lady."

"Mr. Thornfield?" Marianne repeated blankly.

"Lady Margaret's nephew, my lady. He says he's in the neighborhood on business and hoped to pay his respects."

Before Marianne could fully process this development, a young man appeared in the doorway who could only be described as devastatingly handsome.

Mr. David Thornfield possessed the sort of classical features that belonged in Renaissance paintings, combined with an easy charm that immediately filled the room with warmth.

"Lady Marianne," he said with a bow that managed to be both respectful and slightly theatrical. "I do hope you'll forgive the presumption, but Aunt Margaret spoke so highly of you that I couldn't resist the opportunity to make your acquaintance."

"Mr. Thornfield," Marianne managed, suddenly acutely aware that her sitting room now contained three gentlemen, all of whom appeared to be paying her calls simultaneously. "Please, join us for tea."

Mr. Thornfield's gaze swept the assembled company with obvious amusement. "Lord Pembroke, Lord Alton—what a distinguished gathering. I hope I'm not intruding on important business?"

"Not at all," Lord Pembroke said with the sort of forced pleasantness that suggested he found this latest arrival deeply inconvenient.

"We were just discussing garden tours," Lord Alton added with equal diplomacy and obvious irritation.

"Garden tours?" Mr. Thornfield's eyes lit up with what appeared to be genuine delight. "How fascinating. I'm quite passionate about horticulture myself—studied landscape design during my time in Italy. I'd be honored to join the expedition, if Lady Marianne wouldn't mind an additional perspective?"

Marianne looked around her sitting room at three gentlemen, all now committed to a garden tour that had somehow evolved from a romantic walk for two into what appeared to be a horticultural committee meeting.

"The more perspectives, the merrier," she said weakly.

"Excellent!" Mr. Thornfield said, settling into the chair Mrs. Smith had hastily provided. "Though perhaps we should finish our tea first? I find garden appreciation requires proper fortification."

For the next twenty minutes, Marianne found herself presiding over what could only be described as the most peculiar tea party of her adult life.

Lord Pembroke attempted to steer conversation toward their shared charitable interests, Lord Alton contributed technical observations about everything from soil drainage to weather patterns, and Mr. Thornfield provided entertaining commentary that somehow made everyone else sound more interesting than they actually were.

"Lady Marianne's organizational skills are quite remarkable," Lord Pembroke was saying. "Her approach to the foundling charity demonstrates exactly the sort of systematic thinking that creates lasting change."

"Absolutely," Lord Alton agreed. "Her festival coordination combines practical logistics with genuine understanding of community needs. It's a rare combination of competence and compassion."

"How wonderful," Mr. Thornfield said with obvious admiration. "Beauty, intelligence, and charitable dedication. Lady Marianne, you're clearly a woman of exceptional accomplishments."

Marianne felt increasingly like a prize being described by competing judges. "You're all very kind, though I suspect you're overestimating my organizational abilities."

"Not at all," all three men said simultaneously, then looked at each other with mutual surprise.

"I believe," Mr. Thornfield said with a grin that suggested he was finding the situation thoroughly entertaining, "we're all in agreement about Lady Marianne's exceptional qualities."

"Indeed," Lord Pembroke said carefully.

"Quite," Lord Alton added with equal caution.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group as each man appeared to realize that he was not, in fact, Lady Marianne's only admirer.

"Well," Marianne said brightly, "shall we proceed to the garden tour before we lose the light entirely?"

The expedition that followed could only be described as educational in the most unintended ways.

Lord Pembroke offered insights into Italian garden design, Lord Alton provided technical analysis of her planting strategies, and Mr. Thornfield contributed amusing observations about the personalities of various plants while somehow managing to make everyone else feel cleverer than they'd started.

"Your herb garden demonstrates remarkable understanding of companion planting," Lord Alton was saying as they examined her carefully arranged beds of lavender, rosemary, and sage.

"Yes, though I notice you've also incorporated some Continental techniques," Lord Pembroke added. "The spacing between your thyme and chamomile reminds me of monastery gardens I observed in Tuscany."

"Both excellent points," Mr. Thornfield said cheerfully. "Though I must say, the real genius is in how the entire space feels both organized and natural. It's like a conversation between human planning and botanical preferences."

Marianne found herself grateful for Mr. Thornfield's presence, not because she was particularly interested in him romantically, but because his easy humor somehow defused the competitive tension that had been building between Lord Pembroke and Lord Alton.

"Mr. Thornfield," she said as they paused beside her late-blooming roses and chrysanthemums, "your aunt mentioned you're in Somerset on business?"

"Establishing a new mill operation," he replied. "Nothing nearly as interesting as charity work or agricultural innovation, but it keeps me occupied." He gestured toward the cottage. "Though I must say, this seems like a much more pleasant occupation than anything involving machinery and commerce."

"Mr. Thornfield is being modest," Lord Pembroke said with surprising generosity. "Industrial development requires considerable skill and vision."

"Indeed," Lord Alton agreed. "Economic growth supports community welfare—it's all interconnected."

"How diplomatic of you both," Mr. Thornfield said with obvious amusement. "Though I suspect you're simply being kind to the interloper who crashed your garden party."

As they completed their tour and returned to the cottage, Marianne realized that what should have been an awkward afternoon had somehow become genuinely enjoyable.

The presence of three very different men—each trying to be impressive while remaining polite to his competitors—had created an atmosphere of witty competition that was more entertaining than romantic.

"Thank you all for such a delightful afternoon," she said as they gathered in the sitting room for final pleasantries. "I've learned more about my own garden than I knew there was to know."

"The pleasure was entirely ours," Mr. Thornfield said with a bow. "Though I suspect Lady Marianne has given us more education than we've provided her."

"Education in what?" Lord Alton asked.

"In the art of gracious hosting under rather... unique... circumstances," Mr. Thornfield replied with a grin that suggested he was perfectly aware of the romantic undercurrents he'd interrupted.

As the three gentlemen prepared to take their leave—with various promises to call again soon—Marianne realized that her peaceful afternoon had become something unexpected: a comedy of competitive politeness that had somehow revealed more about each man's character than any formal courtship could have managed.

Lord Pembroke remained perfectly charming and appropriate, but she'd noticed how carefully he managed the social dynamics to maintain his position as presumptive favorite.

Lord Alton had shown flashes of something warmer than his usual formal demeanor, particularly when discussing her garden, but seemed to retreat into military courtesy whenever the situation became too socially complex.

And Mr. Thornfield, despite being devastatingly handsome and thoroughly charming, struck her as someone who was performing amusement rather than feeling it—entertaining but not particularly interested in genuine connection.

As Mrs. Smith cleared away the tea things, shaking her head over the complexity of the afternoon's social logistics, Marianne reflected that managing three suitors simultaneously was considerably more exhausting than managing her entire menagerie.

At least her animals were honest about their intentions and didn't require her to navigate the subtleties of competitive politeness.

Though she had to admit, watching three intelligent men attempt to out-gentleman each other while maintaining perfect courtesy had been quite the most educational afternoon she'd had in some time.

Even if the education had been more about the absurdities of courtship than about anything she particularly wanted to learn.