Page 39 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal (Love from London #3)

F rom Gardens from Age to Age, A Compendium ?—

Patience is cultivated within the garden bed, as surely as any flower. For it is with deferred hope that one waits to see if efforts will be rewarded. Quiet perseverance is planted alongside each and every seed.

James and Arthur stayed for dinner, which was served in the back parlor.

With its stone floor and current lack of curtains, the room could have been cold and dreary, but it was painted the palest shade of yellow.

A stunning bank of windows allowed excellent afternoon light, a colorful braided rug livened the space, and a cheerfully crackling fire added a cozy, inviting warmth.

The four of them sat at a round wooden table that had long ago been painted ivory.

Mrs. Penn and a trio of maids brought a steaming teapot, a tureen of creamy soup, a platter of bacon sandwiches with ripe tomatoes from the hothouse, and a light salad of pickled cucumbers and shaved onion, as well as an array of sliced cold meat and cheeses.

Candace found she enjoyed the simple way of dining in the country.

Though nothing could compare with a lavish London dining room—the sparkle of crystal reflected from the chandeliers, the glimmer of silver candelabras and china—there was something homey and comforting about a plain table and communal dishes.

“Can we come back and play hide and go seek tomorrow, Father?”

James smiled. “I fear our hostesses would grow tired of us if we returned that quickly.”

“Not at all,” Vera interjected quickly. “Feel free to visit as often as you like.”

Candace hurried to agree. “You are always welcome, though we probably cannot always offer the level of amusement we did today. Mrs. Penn was fretting about all of the missed chores by the time we were finished.”

“The house is spotless,” Vera said over the rim of her teacup. “I hid all the way in the back of a cupboard and emerged without so much as a speck.”

Candace added, “She’s a very efficient housekeeper. Percy is lucky to have her and her loyalty.”

She hid her smile as James frowned and shook his head at Arthur—the boy had been trying to sneak a piece of his crust onto the floor for Seamus.

“Then you should visit us, and we can make our servants play,” Arthur said, his eyes bright, the moment of discipline all but forgotten.

James said, “Or perhaps we’ll leave the servants alone and play a game of Old Maid. Four is more than enough for that game.”

“Oh, please come visit so we can play Old Maid!”

Candace smiled. “We’ll visit you on the next day the weather is poor. It’s a promise.”

But the following day, when storm clouds roiled low over the horizon, Vera claimed she had the sniffles and couldn’t go.

“You’d better go on without me,” she said, giving a weak cough into her handkerchief. “Arthur will be dreadfully disappointed if you don’t go just because I can’t; you did promise him, after all.”

So Candace and Hortense bundled up and huddled beneath umbrellas on the way to the carriage. They clambered in and Candace shivered, her hands shoved into a fur muff. Not even the warming bricks were enough to chase away the damp chill of the day.

It was the first time she and her maid had faced an expanse of uninterrupted time alone since the fateful game of hide and go seek.

The previous evening, Hortense had been a dervish, making a production over polishing Candace’s boots—even though they already appeared spotless—and reorganizing her jewelry trays.

Candace had narrowed her eyes in suspicion but left her to it without pressing the issue. Perhaps Hortense needed more time to privately consider what had occurred behind the library curtain.

But now they were alone. Candace delicately cleared her throat and thought about how to proceed without embarrassing her.

“Please don’t fire me, my lady,” Hortense blurted, even before the carriage set in motion. “It was a momentary lapse in judgement, nothing more.”

Candace couldn’t help herself—she laughed in surprise. “I’ve no intention of firing you, Hortense. You’re the best lady’s maid in all of London, and even if that weren’t the case, I consider us to be friends.”

Hortense sagged against the seat, looking completely exhausted.

Candace shook her head. “Is that why you were avoiding me last night? I thought you were still plagued with nervous excitement, not with fear for your position.”

Hortense held a trembling hand to her forehead. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I beg your pardon; I assure you it won’t happen again.”

“It definitely shouldn’t,” she mock-scolded. “At least, not until he’s declared his intentions.”

“His...intentions?”

“To marry you, of course.”

Hortense jerked as if someone had just prodded her backside with a fork. “ Marriage ?”

“I assume you’re familiar with the concept,” Candace said dryly. “You see, when a man falls in love with a lady...”

“But I’m not—a lady, I mean.”

“What a shocking proclamation. If you aren’t a lady, you’re certainly the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Though I suppose it makes you helping me bathe quite scandalous.”

Hortense squeezed her eyes closed and rapidly shook her head. “I’m not noble .”

Candace’s flawless forehead wrinkled before she caught herself and smoothed it. “What does that have to do with anything? One doesn’t have to be noble to fall in love and be married. In fact, if recent events are any indicator, then I’d daresay it might help that you aren’t a member of the ton .”

“I’ve no dowry.”

“I wasn’t aware you needed one. But if that’s the impediment, surely we can find a solution. What’s an average-sized dowry for the best lady’s maid in all of London, do you think?”

Hortense didn’t answer; she just clutched the ends of her shawl with white fingers and looked out the rain-lashed window. Candace studied her for a moment. Her mouth was drawn down at the corners in deep distress. As she watched, Hortense began to blink rapidly.

“Oh, dear,” Candace said, reaching across the expanse to place a hand on her maid’s knee. “Please don’t cry. I was only teasing. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It isn’t the dowry.” Hortense sniffled and fairly slapped the tears from her cheeks, as if they offended her. “There’s...well. There’s someone else.”

“Another man, you mean? Hortense, are you already engaged?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean...it’s very complicated.”

Candace pressed her lips together and joined Hortense in staring out the window. This was a rather shocking turn of events. Hortense had never mentioned being betrothed before now, and she’d been in Candace’s service for...

“I don’t understand,” Candace blurted. “Was this fellow in London, or before?”

“Before.” Her shoulders slumped.

“But you must have been very young. Certainly too young to enter into such an arrangement.”

“’Arrangement is the appropriate word, my lady. My parents contracted the match.”

“Wait—is there an actual contract?”

“I don’t know. I left. I haven’t spoken to them in some time now.”

She nodded. Hortense’s family had always been a delicate subject that Candace had quickly learned to avoid—asking about them or her past was a sure way to have the curling tongs forgotten in the fire.

“Did you agree to the match? Did you want to marry the fellow?”

“Of course not. I was far too young to have a clear opinion of what a woman should want in a husband. Not to mention, he was far too old for me.”

“How old?” Candace asked darkly—wondering if the age gap was akin to the one separating her and James, or something far worse.

“ Too old.”

Candace nodded sharply. “Very well then. That settles it. You aren’t engaged, and there is no other man.”

“My parents would never approve.”

“My dear Hortense! If I had a shilling for every match that’s been made under those circumstances, I could buy the Duke of Devonshire’s London estate fifteen times over. Stop thinking of your parents and their imagined disappointment. What do you want?”

“I...I don’t know.” Her hands clenched and unclenched.

“I’ve only just met Thomas. Though he seems to be everything wonderful and kind, and he certainly has shown a partiality to me, what if we marry and a year later I find out he’s a rotten cheat, or lazy?

What if he sails off to the Americas and leaves me and our four children behind? ”

Her eyes were wide. She leaned forward, breathless with the exertion of all her fears.

Candace wanted to laugh. Instead, she nodded solemnly.

“Every romance—every relationship —is a risk. Every single one is a leap into the unknown. Even if you’ve known someone for years upon years, a commitment is still built upon faith.

But I know you, Hortense. You’re a good, intelligent person.

You saw Shelbourne for what he was, long before I did.

I should have listened when you first cautioned me against him.

Perhaps if I had, I wouldn’t be the gossips’ soup du jour. ”

Candace shook her head and refocused. “But that’s beside the issue.

I only mention it to point out that you’re an excellent judge of character.

You aren’t like some young ladies, whose heads are turned by every handsome man who smiles their way.

If Thomas is lazy, or unkind, or slovenly, or any one of the thousand things that would discredit him to you, then you’ll be able to see it.

And if the worst happens, and you marry him and find out he isn’t who he claimed to be, then you’ll always have a position in my household. ”

Hortense blinked emotion back from her eyes and nodded, her jaw tight.

Candace smiled and teased, “Unless of course, it is you who becomes the lay-about with too much fondness for whiskey.”

Hortense gave a watery laugh and ducked her head, touching a bent finger to the corners of her eyes. “Thank you, my lady.”

Candace examined her as she set herself to rights. “You really do care for him, don’t you? That’s why you’re so frightened.”