Page 32 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal (Love from London #3)

F rom the Quentin Daily-

Debtor’s house arrest! A local lord is rumored to be in serious debt to a local gambling hall!

The gambling den has posted large men at the front and back of the lord’s house to catch him before he can flee the country.

One wonders if money will be enough to pacify the brutes!

“He’s afraid for his life!” Elizabeth Ellison, a local resident, claims. “The men are huge and carry clubs!”

James dismounted from his horse in the gravel drive and frowned up at Devon Manor. Truth be told, he didn’t have an excellent reason for visiting that afternoon, save that he was bored and went for a ride and found his horse pointed in this direction.

Still, he comforted himself with the knowledge that company was more repetitive in the country than in the city.

Therefore, the ladies of the house were far less likely to wonder at his appearance three times in one week in the countryside of Devon than they would have in London.

And there were fewer people paying attention to who was visiting whom and how often, for which he was grateful.

His polished boots had only just begun crunching against the pea gravel toward the front door—his horse handed off to an obliging groom—when Candace herself rounded the corner.

She wore a dark wool dress and an apron that covered her front from chin to hem.

A pair of thick workman’s gloves were clutched in one hand.

Despite her odd ensemble, she looked beautiful as always. Strands of her red hair escaped her chignon to frame her lovely face and drape over her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed—with exertion or excitement, he couldn’t tell.

“Good afternoon,” he called.

She started and whirled—apparently she’d been so intent on her goal of entering the house that she hadn’t seen him.

She smiled wide, her green eyes sparkling. “James, what brings you here?”

It was a question whose meaning depended completely on tone. Hers was warm and inviting, so James took no offense and answered readily.

“A simple visit to see what amusements the ladies of the house are engaged in. I’d hoped to borrow some of your diversions, as I’ve grown weary of my own.”

“You’ve only been in the countryside a few weeks. Do you tire of it so soon? Are we in danger of you turning back for the city with all due haste?”

“Not at all,” he rushed to assure her. “The country suits me perfectly at the moment. It’s only that the day was too lovely to be spent indoors.”

“True, though the fact mars my following invitation—to accompany me inside. I was going to hunt down some tea; would you like to join me?”

“Always,” he answered quickly, then inwardly cursed himself for his blunt admission.

Candace didn’t seem to notice; she’d already turned for the door.

“What have you been doing this fine afternoon?” He asked the question in part because he wanted to know and in part to divert her attention before she could consider his previous answer more fully.

“I believe I’ve found a project.”

She pronounced the words as if they should be capitalized—A Project.

“I cannot wait to hear all about it.” He followed her into the front foyer and closed the door behind them.

Candace yanked at the ties on the back of her apron and shucked the plain cotton over her head; he averted his eyes, staring at a small painting of a brown hunting dog. Though she was only removing an apron, he fought the urge to yank at his collar all the same.

“Let’s find Vera and call for tea. Then I can tell you both at the same time.”

A smile lifted his lips. After Shelbourne had left to Paris, once enough time had passed for Candace to feel the blunt edge of his disregard, she’d seemed to go through her days under a haze.

If James hadn’t known better, he might have thought she took a small dose of laudanum every sunrise—her smiles were wan unless she knew someone was watching, her laughter rang with a false note, and she lacked her usual sense of forward-driving purpose.

That purpose seemed to be back now, and he was eager to find out what had rekindled her inner light.

They found Vera in the main hall, curled up on a leather sofa, her feet tucked beneath her. James hesitated at the entry, allowing Candace to hurry in before him—Vera would want a moment to rearrange herself before a gentleman entered the room.

Indeed, when Candace casually announced him, Vera blinked, wide-eyed, and sat up immediately. He took that as his cue to enter.

“Good afternoon, Miss Ashbury.” He sketched a bow.

“Hello, James.” She smiled up at him. “After all the times you’ve encouraged me to use your given name, and yet you insist upon greeting me with my proper name. Why is that?”

“A lady should always be allowed room to change her mind.”

Vera shook her head, smiling. “I’ll not change my mind on my opinion of you—you may mark my word.”

“Then I’m keen to hear your opinion of me, as it is so firmly set.” James grinned.

A splotch of pink dotted Vera’s cheeks. “Only a man of your social standing would feel so free to demand it.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Candace watched this interlude with all the keenness of someone viewing a high-stakes sporting match; her head turned back and forth to watch the repartee.

Now, she frowned. “Yes, yes. You’re both exceedingly polite and like each other very much. May we move on? ”

James laughed. “Of course.” He turned back to Vera. “She has something important to tell us.”

“So important that she hasn’t yet bidden you to sit. But as I live here too, I’ll invite you to do so.”

“Thank you.” He added in a teasing tone, “It was a long walk from the front drive.”

James took one of the chairs perpendicular to the sofa, in hopes that Candace might take the one next to it. Instead, she chose to walk back and forth in front of the table.

When he glanced over at Vera, her eyes were sparkling with good-natured mirth. He couldn’t tell if it was his longing or Candace’s animation that amused her. Though he hoped it was the latter, Vera wasn’t the kind to make sport of anyone, and he didn’t begrudge her humor wherever she found it.

After Candace rang for tea, she addressed her audience. “I was out in the shed, looking to replace the bulbs and the pot that Seamus knocked over?—”

“Very sorry about that, by the way.” James couldn’t help but interrupt, taking care to keep his face straight. “Arthur felt awful about the pottery.”

“How is Arthur?” Vera added swiftly, instantly picking up James’s amusement and making it her own.

“Very good, thank you.”

“And Seamus?”

“Seamus is well, too.”

“I’m so happy to hear it.” Vera’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I apologize for my reaction when I saw him.”

“Not at all.”

“I hope you’ll feel free to bring him with you in the future. I told Candace—I had a bad experience with a dog once, and Seamus surprised me is all. If I know he’s coming, I won’t be afraid of him.”

“He doesn’t need to come and shed all over this house—not when he has so much shedding to accomplish at home.”

“Please, don’t leave him home on my account. It would be good for me to get more experience with a gentle dog that I can trust.”

James nodded. “If you think it would help, of course I’ll bring him.”

“How was the weather today for your ride?” Vera studiously ignored Candace; her eyes sparkled at James with the mirth of their game of conversational keep-away.

“Very nice, thank you. Sunny and cool, just as I prefer.”

Candace watched their exchange with barely concealed impatience, her hands propped on her slim hips. “You two are having a laugh at my expense, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry, Candace,” Vera relented, grinning. “Please, tell us your plan.”

As if she didn’t want to risk the conversation skittering out of her control once more, she blurted, “I’m going to landscape the estate.”

“What do you mean? You aim to plant flowers?” Vera asked.

“Yes. And design the arrangement of the garden. There’s an old garden folly by the pond at the back of the estate that’s completely overgrown. I need to inspect it, but perhaps I’ll have it repaired and replanted as a wedding gift to Percy and Adelaide. ”

Candace’s eyes sparkled, and her smile spread so wide the bow in her upper lip stretched smooth. James hadn’t seen her so happy in a very long time. Still, he couldn’t help teasing her a little.

“I’m sure your brother will appreciate the sentiment so much he won’t even mind signing the bill afterward,” he said in as serious a tone as he could manage.

“Oh, quiet.” Candace waved a hand, dismissing his words easily.

“He’s not one to quibble at the waste of money where his wife is concerned—there are six crates of flower bulbs set to rot in the potting shed.

I’ll use those quickly, so they hopefully won’t go bad, and he’ll overlook any purchase once his wife applauds my efforts. You’ll see.”

“Your brother won’t deny you anything.” Especially considering what you recently went through, he thought.

“I think that’s a marvelous idea.” Vera leaned forward, fanning the flames of her friend’s interest with her enthusiasm.

Not for the first time, James felt a surge of gratitude that Candace had found such a wonderful confidante to help her through this difficult time. It was no small sacrifice to leave one’s home indefinitely—especially when home was London, and at the height of the social season, too.

James had no inkling as to how Vera had convinced her mother to agree to her absence; perhaps Lady Ashbury possessed more compassion than he’d previously realized. Whatever the case, he was grateful to the entire family.

“How can I help you?” Vera added. “What’s to be your first step?”

“Well, for the bulbs, I suppose I’ll dig a hole.” Candace frowned as if visualizing such a thing.

“You will hire gardeners to do the actual digging, of course,” James prompted. Though he didn’t wish to come across as high-handed, he wasn’t keen to see the ravages a shovel handle would wreak on her soft hands.