Page 13

S eth bit his lower lip as Alicia moved away from him and toward another flowerbed on the other side of the garden.

The smile that had threatened to burst free when he had first seen her spread across his face, now that her back was turned to him.

What in the world is she wearing?

He looked her up and down, fighting the urge to laugh out loud at her appearance.

It seemed to be one of her dresses originally, for the base material looked rather fine.

The cut was exquisite, hugging her figure in all the right places.

But, for reasons he was still rather confused by, it was coupled with a large quantity of gray fabric that cascaded in strange loops and ragged lines down to the floor.

He squinted at it, noting that some part of the dress was constantly touching the ground.

Seth did not move from his position, leaning back on his heels and waiting to see what she would do next.

He enjoyed a puzzle. What was she trying to achieve with this? Alicia was generally the picture of elegance and grace. So what was the purpose of this new fashion?

He considered it for a few minutes, enjoying the opportunity to run his eyes over her beautiful curves, but remained none the wiser.

With a wry smile tugging at his lips, he returned to his basket of bulbs.

His gardener, Marcus Langham, was a patient man about his age. He knew of Seth’s strange whims and had taken to indulging them without instruction.

Today was no exception.

When Seth had first inherited the dukedom, it had been a jarring transition. The house he had grown up in suddenly seemed cavernous and foreign. It had taken him several months to grow accustomed to living in Radcliffe Manor without his father’s towering presence in every corner.

But one thing he had loved right from the start was the garden. Unlike many of his peers, Seth had discovered that he not only liked sitting in the gardens but also tending them.

It was hardly common for a duke to plant flowers, but there was a strange set of circumstances that had led to his current position on his knees, beside a flowerbed.

It had all happened following a particularly dark night, shortly after his father’s death.

Seth had been in a whirl of anger and guilt. A mixture of sorrow at Gordon’s absence and the recent loss of his father found him halfway into a bottle of whiskey in the dead of night during a terrible storm.

He had thrown his glass into the fireplace and driven his fist into the wall to fight the despair that threatened to overtake him, but it was to no avail.

In the end, in his drunken state, he decided to go out into the storm, hoping the wind might carry him away into the sky, and with it the troubles in his life.

He ventured into the gardens, soaked to the skin in seconds, shouting into the storm and screaming at the lightning until a silhouette on the ground caught his eye.

Striding over to it, he discovered a spade left in a flowerbed beside the house.

Grabbing it, he began to dig viciously and angrily. What he had been digging for, he still did not know. It had continued for a long while until he was a sweaty mess, too exhausted to continue.

When Langham arrived the next day, it was the first time Seth had ever seen a servant truly furious with him.

His gardener attempted to keep some level of decorum, but the withering fury in his tone could not be mistaken.

The devastation Seth had wrought was far more severe in the light of day. Many bushes were overturned, there were holes several feet deep in all of the beds, and soil covered the pathways on all sides in a compacted layer.

Langham’s fists were clenched so hard, his jaw so tight, that Seth believed he might have an apoplexy.

Not wishing to lose a loyal and gifted servant, Seth apologized and, much to Langham’s dismay, insisted on helping to fix the damage.

Seth smiled at the memory, certain that if Langham had ordered him never to set foot in his garden again, he would not have objected.

Instead, after the anger and fury of the night, he had found solace in the monotonous task of digging the beds and turning over the soil. It had helped to clear his mind, and Langham had even taught him how to cultivate the natural world around him.

By and by, Seth had begun to add his own flair to the gardens. Whenever he was unhappy or fighting against the guilt in his heart, he would find himself outside, bothering his faithful gardener.

Langham started to recognize the signs, and when Seth had come out that afternoon, he smirked when he saw a little crate of flowers ready for planting and some bulbs left for him.

No doubt, Langham knew that the stresses of a new wife might drive me to distraction.

His gaze turned to Alicia again as he planted the final bulb, surprised to find that he wanted to be closer to her.

He could not work out what she was up to, and he wanted to find out.

Rising to his feet, he grimaced at the ache in the small of his back and stretched his arms above his head. Then, bending down to retrieve the tray of flowering plants Langham had left for him, he walked toward her.

She was weeding the bed she was kneeling beside.

He stopped, not wanting her to notice him just yet, running his eyes over the shapely curve of her back and down to the tiny feet poking out from beneath her.

Swallowing down the desire that roared within him, Seth shifted the crate and found that he was smiling.

As he watched her delicate fingers pull the weeds from the bed, she was joined by the robin who always frequented the garden at this time of year.

The fresh earth attracted him, and he and Seth had spent many mornings together. Seth enjoyed watching him flutter about, his carefree nature calming something inside him and giving him hope.

He would not tell Alicia that he had named the robin Christopher . It was foolish to name a wild bird, after all. She would doubtless think he had lost his mind.

Still, he watched Christopher peck about beside her, utterly unafraid. Seth was charmed by the image, gratitude forming at her presence in his life that was as unexpected as it was unwelcome.

As he stepped forward, she tensed and looked up as he walked around her.

Towering above her, looking down into that beautiful, upturned face, he felt a pulse of heat in his groin.

Why do I have such a fixation on having this woman on her knees before me?

He suppressed a shudder, holding out the crate to her.

She sat back, looking at the flowers with some interest, but then quickly put her hands on her hips, frowning at him.

“Are you putting me to work?” she asked coolly.

Seth ran his teeth over his lower lip to keep from grinning. He had never been so tempted to smile around anyone—it was infuriating.

“My gardener has cleared this bed for me. I asked to have a little more color visible from my study window. Would you care to plant them with me?”

Alicia blinked at him. “ You are going to plant them?”

“Yes.”

“But you are a duke.”

“I am aware.”

“But… why does the gardener not plant them himself?” she asked, frowning up at him, those full lips parted and begging to be kissed.

“Because,” he said, tightening his hold on the crate, “I have two hands and I am quite capable of doing it myself. Do you wish to help or not?”

He watched her beautiful lips pucker as she cleared her throat and leaned back, giving him a glorious view of her chest as it rose and fell with each breath.

“All right, I suppose I can help you.”

Seth smirked at that, the indignation in her voice contrasting with the confusion in her eyes.

Perhaps we are both a little mad.

He knelt beside her, enjoying her proximity and having the upper hand for once.

He took all the plants out of the crate, their roots trailing across the soil as he contemplated the little patch available to them.

“There are twenty altogether,” he said, looking at the tiny flowers bending in the breeze. “Perhaps we can have a competition.”

Alicia’s eyes lit up. “A game?”

“A competition. ”

Alicia snorted. “Well, there had better be a prize.”

Seth’s mind went wild, imagining demanding a kiss for his troubles should he win. If she won, he might just ravage her on the grass and sink into her right there.

He watched Christopher flutter down to investigate the plants, hopping about as he examined them all.

“He is very tame,” Alicia said, looking delighted.

“He is a nuisance,” Seth countered, without really meaning it.

The robin gave him a reproachful look and fluttered away to perch on the handle of a spade at the edge of the bed.

Seth rolled his eyes at him and handed Alicia one of the plants.

“Let us see who can make the prettiest arrangement,” he said.

“The prettiest?” Alicia asked, her eyes flicking down his chest and back up again. He felt himself hardening in his breeches.

“Indeed. Men can admire something pretty just as much as a lady can,” he said, keeping his eyes on her bright blue ones.

She flushed as she took the first plant from him, and they got to work.

It became clear very quickly that Alicia’s abilities outmatched his.

She had an eye for what colors went together, not to mention that Seth made an awful mess of his plants, placing them too deep into the soil, whereas hers were perfectly balanced on the first try.

“Do you enjoy gardening?” Alicia asked.

“Very much,” he replied honestly. “It seems as though you do, too.”

“My mother taught me some things when I was very young. She was always in the garden.” Her voice was quiet and wistful as she looked around the vast lawn. “She would have liked it here.”

Seth’s heart ached for her. He knew very well what it was like to lose loved ones, and he did not like the sadness that had clouded her features.

Not wishing to let her thoughts spiral into melancholy, he threw some soil at her, pretending it was an accident.

Her head whipped around in outrage as several clumps tumbled down to her skirts.

“My apologies,” he said as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Have I ruined your lovely dress?” Then, he did it again.

With a shriek of laughter, she surprised him by grabbing a handful of dirt in her fingers and throwing it at his head.

Seth dodged it effortlessly.

Alicia’s laugh was the most wonderful sound, high and lilting. She almost rolled backward, giggling wildly as Seth grabbed another handful of soil and hurled it at her.

She shouted in protest, reaching down to grab a clump, but he had reached for the same spot, and her hand accidentally landed on his own.

It felt as if the air around them was sucked out as Seth felt the smoothness of her skin against his rough fingers. He looked up to find her eyes already fixed on him, and she did not pull away, almost as if she were waiting to see what he might do.

Seth did not move, other than turning his hand so that his palm met hers. She sucked in a breath, a charged moment of connection between them before she snatched her hand away, rising to her feet.

He opened his mouth to thank her, but she was already brushing her hands over her skirts and rushing back to the house as if he were chasing her.

He sat silently beside the bed, watching her retreat, a strange sense of loss filling him at the distance growing between them.

Glancing down at the bed, he leaned back, looking at the pattern she had made in the earth. He frowned, something tugging at his insides as he looked over the plants she had placed in the bed.

Quite unintentionally, he was sure, they made the shape of a heart in the dark soil.