Page 56 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal (Love from London #3)

F rom Animals and Insects of an English Garden-

Although some small children and ladies are fearful of anything that crawls upon a garden floor, it is important to remember that there are several kinds of insect that are not only harmless, but beneficial to the garden environment.

In contrast, there are many furry creatures who at first glance appear adorable, but are the bane of a gardener’s existence. ..

The following morning, Candace got up the courage to write a real letter to Percy, one that she specifically addressed for his eyes alone.

Percy,

Though undoubtedly you’ll return to London after this takes place, I still wish you would be here for the occasion.

Or for Sophia to be here. But as both of you are merrily abroad, celebrating your recent or impending nuptials, I cannot feel that you would deprive me a similar joyful, betrothed state.

The Duke of Canterbury has asked to court me, and I have readily accepted.

He is a gentleman of the finest caliber—both in breeding and character—and I feel I am the luckiest of all ladies, for he says he loves me.

I love him back, which is a heady, terrifying experience that no one quite warned me about.

But I digress. By the time you make your way to Devon, I will likely be engaged.

It is strange to think that once we marry I will be the Duchess of Canterbury, a title which many have sought.

I confess I’m much more excited at the prospect of someday being James's wife and Arthur’s mama than I am at acquiring such an esteemed honorific, but I will bear the burden with as much grace as I am able.

Happily yours,

Candace

She sealed it with wax and her seal, then placed the folded letter into her coat pocket and set off for the village.

It didn’t seem right to her that she hadn’t made every effort to inform her family members of James’s courtship and intentions.

Even though it might be months before Percy received her note, at least she would have tried her best.

Hortense walked at her side but found every opportunity to stare off into the fields. If Candace were being honest, she felt a little burr of hurt at the way Hortense had accepted Candace’s happy news.

Her maid had nodded, smiled stiffly, and wished her all the eventual joy in the world. But her words had been reserved and formal, and she hadn’t bestowed a single hug.

“Hortense, what’s wrong?” Candace asked bluntly.

“Nothing, my lady.”

“Please don’t lie to me. We both know something is amiss. Is it...is it James? Do you not approve of his courtship?”

Although it wouldn’t change Candace’s mind on the matter, she’d rather know now if her maid had some charge against the man’s character.

Hortense whirled toward her and frowned. “Not at all, my lady.”

“Then why...you didn’t seem happy to hear of it.”

Hortense frowned and stared forward. “Forgive me, my lady. If my reaction wasn’t a good one, it wasn’t because of the duke. He’s the perfect match for you.”

Warm contentment bloomed in Candace’s stomach at the words. Hortense was her friend—perhaps not in the same way that Vera was, but a friend all the same.

“Then what is the matter? Is it Thomas? Has something happened?” Candace was shocked to see tears shimmering in her maid’s eyes. She stopped dead in the center of the road and gripped her elbow. “Tell me.”

“He...he asked me to marry him. Yesterday in the village.”

Candace flung arms around her. “Why, that’s wonderful!”

It was true—when one was happy, one wanted everyone one cared about to be so, as well.

“Is it?” Her lower lip trembled; a single tear dripped down her cheek.

“Is it not?”

Candace rooted in her pocket and came up with a crisp handkerchief that Hortense had pressed only yesterday afternoon. Her maid took it with a tsk , as if irritated with herself for needing it.

“I thought you at least liked the fellow,” Candace added.

If she didn’t, that scene in the library from weeks ago became even more shocking.

“Of course I like him. I love him.” At this pronouncement, Hortense buried her nose into the handkerchief and gave a great startling honk.

Candace did her best to ignore it, blinking away her surprise. “Then what on earth is the matter?”

“He wants me to stay here, with him.”

She smiled. “Husbands are funny that way—they often want to share a home with their wife.”

“Don’t tease me, I cannot bear it.” Hortense wrung the handkerchief between white fingers.

“I’m sorry. I just...I don’t understand. If you love him, surely him proposing is a good thing?”

“I would have to quit my job. You’ll be going back to London.”

Candace didn’t argue with her, not when she wasn’t sure where she’d reside. Besides, she didn’t think it was central to the point.

“And you hate Devon?” she guessed .

“Of course not,” Hortense snapped, as if Candace was a moron to even suggest such a thing. “It’s gorgeous here. The air is so fresh, and I haven’t had to beat one vicious dog away with my umbrella.”

Candace lips trembled with the force of holding back her smile.

“I’ve never...” Hortense began, than faltered and tried again. “I’ve only ever relied on myself. Made my own way. It’s for the best. I can depend on myself to take care of me. Before that, with my father...” She shrugged.

“You’re afraid Thomas won’t provide for you?” she asked gently.

“It’s not just me anymore, is it?”

Candace’s eyes widened. “Hortense, is there...are you...?”

“Of course not!” She scowled as if deeply offended. “Don’t be daft.”

“Then why would you say it isn’t just you?”

“Well, there will be children, most likely, won’t there? Eventually? Thomas says he wants four of them.”

Hortense rubbed her arm as if warding off a sudden chill. Candace tried hard not to laugh in her face.

“You don’t want children?” she asked as soon as she was confident she could keep the tremor from her voice.

“I do. But I won’t be able to work if I’m big as a house, and once the children come along, I’ll be too busy with them to work at all, won’t I?”

“Ah,” Candace said, understanding finally draping across her shoulders. “You’re worried that Thomas will end up being like your father. That he won’t work hard to support his family, and then once you have children, you won’t be able to work to support them, either.”

“Of course.” She threw up her hands in exasperation, the white handkerchief fluttering like a flag of surrender in her grip. “What on earth do you think I’ve been talking about?”

Candace smiled and shook her head. “Hortense, for what it’s worth, I’ve been watching him.

Every time I visit that shop, he’s there.

Either that, or he’s passing me in the street, making deliveries.

He’s well-kempt and never smells like liquor.

He’s polite, deferential. His shirt is always pressed and tucked in.

Mr. Harris is a widower, so Thomas’s mother isn’t the one ironing at home. ”

“They have a maid who comes in during the day,” she grumbled.

“And have you seen their house? Is it nice, orderly?”

Hortense nodded.

“Then what on earth is the problem?”

“I’m scared,” she admitted, her eyes welling with tears once more. “What if it all goes wrong? What if we have those four children and then he runs off, or becomes a drunk, or dies ?”

Candace gathered her in her arms and hugged her.

“Then you will pack up your four children and come to me, wherever I am. There will always be a place for you with me. And your children, too. You know we always need more stable boys, and the head groom likes to train them up right nearly from birth. Or if you’d rather, I’ll write Percy and he’ll get you on here.

One of Mrs. Penn’s daughters wears her baby in a sling when she cleans and lets the wee one run wild in the back garden when she’s working.

We’ll figure it out if the worst happens. You’re not alone.”

Hortense clung to her. “Thank you, my lady.”

They stood like that for long moments, until Candace sensed a break in the emotional storm and set Hortense back by the shoulders.

“But let me tell you this. I’ve become acquainted with true regret these past months.

There is nothing so bitter as what might have been.

If Thomas loves you, and you love him, you must accept him.

Otherwise, in two years, or five, we’ll be back in this very village, and you’ll see him walk by with a wife and a child or two, and you’ll dearly regret that someone else had the courage to live the life that should have been yours. ”

Hortense nodded, sniffling, then honked so loudly into the handkerchief that Candace jumped.

“Just...dear heavens. Don’t do that in front of him until you’re well and truly married.”

By the time they arrived in the village, Hortense had set herself to rights.

Other than a slight flush to her cheeks, she exhibited no signs she’d been crying.

Candace longed to ask her if she’d come to a decision—happiness was even more fond of company than misery—but she held her tongue.

Thomas deserved to be the first to hear such news, not her.

“We need to see if we can procure more bunting,” Candace said, as much to redirect her own attention as anything. “Perhaps Mr. Harris has more of the blue, yellow, and white, but if not, I suppose we’ll have to settle for adding green or purple to the mix.”

Candace pushed her way through the shop door, the bell clanging overhead.

“Either will be lovely, my lady.” Hortense mumbled. Her eyes roamed the store, most likely searching for the tall frame of Thomas.

“Who would have thought that we’d need such a great quantity of bunting for a country picnic?” Candace said over her shoulder.

“A country picnic?” a shrill voice—one straight out of Candace’s nightmarish memories—said.

Candace stiffened and turned, a practised smile upon her face. It was Daisy Knope, standing in the narrow aisle of Mr. Harris’s shop. Her head nearly swam with the shock of it.

What was she doing here?

“Miss Knope,” Candace nodded her head as little as possible without technically slighting the woman. “What brings you to this part of the country?”

“We are guests of the Duke of Canterbury, of course. Lovely to see you, Candace—we all wondered where you’d run to after that debacle with poor Shelbourne.”

Candace stiffened at the casual use of her given name. She and Daisy weren’t close, and the little shrew knew it. It was a set-down, just like the rest of her speech.

Poor Shelbourne, indeed.

Still, Candace’s mind swirled. Hadn’t James said he was inviting gentlemen—specifically, the unattached set—to see if any of them had interest in Vera? She longed to have time alone with him to clear up this misunderstanding.

“It’s a beautiful part of the country,” she said instead.

“What’s this about a picnic?” a second young lady pressed, stepping forward.

“Candace, allow me to introduce Miss Martha Ritten,” Daisy said.

Miss Ritten was dark-haired, pretty, with a delicate, upturned nose. Candace hated that these ladies currently sheltered under the same roof as James, but she comforted herself with the fact that he was courting her .

“You should absolutely join us for the picnic,” Candace found herself saying. Good manners dictated the invitation be extended, but right then, Candace wished she could punt good manners straight into the ocean. “This Sunday afternoon. We’ll be touring the refurbished gardens at Devon Manor.”

“How quaint,” Miss Ritten said, her words dripping with false sincerity.

The conversation stalled like a carriage wheel mired in mud. Candace wanted to shift under the discomfort of the awkward silence and cast about for something to say.

“When did you arrive?” she asked, choosing the most benign question possible.

Candace wished that she was more like the baroness. Jacqueline would look these ladies up and down, gain their measure in a trice, and walk straight back out the door, good manners be damned.

“Only yesterday, but the duke and Martha have hit it off especially well already,” Daisy crooned. “Isn’t that right, Martha?”

“I’m very pleased, indeed. Such a man, with such a head of hair. It’s a shame he’s all the way out here with no real company to speak of.”

“Yes, but we’re here now to rectify that, and I daresay he’s ever so grateful.” They shared a conspiratorial smile.

“It’s true.” Miss Ritten nodded, setting the feathers on her hat fluttering. Candace fought the urge to swat and tear at them like an angry cat. “And with the way things are going, I’ve no doubt that he’ll return with us to London when the time comes for us to leave.”

Candace nearly snapped, And when is that?

Instead, she reinforced her societal smile. Her cheeks felt stretched with the effort of it. It had been so long since she’d needed to employ the false expression that she’d forgotten how it pinched—both inside and out.

Candace said, “James enjoys country and city life equally, I believe. There are so many advantages to both; it’s hard to choose.”

She enjoyed the blink of surprise when she used Canterbury’s given name—neither of the ladies were close enough to have been invited to do so.

“I wasn’t aware you and the duke were on such informal terms.”

“He’s a close family friend.”

It was the truth, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Right then, Candace could have cheerfully strangled Percy for being too far away to give James his blessing. Not that it was his fault—he was away on his honeymoon, hardly a selfish venture. But still.

“This garden party...are you sure Devon Manor is ready for visitors?” Daisy pressed, a little moue of concern on her lips. “I’ve heard the place is all but abandoned. The way people talk, one would have to be desperate to escape to somewhere like that .”

Candace’s smile froze until it was as brittle as winter’s last ice. “Not at all. It’s more than comfortable.”

Miss Ritten raised her shoulder in a shrug. “If you say so. I hardly think it could compare to our accommodations at Montclare. Some of our party were invited to take rooms just down the hall from the duke himself.”

“I’ve no doubt he’s a wonderful host.”

“It’s a wonder he didn’t invite you to stay, what with the deplorable conditions of Devon Manor.”

Candace was distracted by the thought of one of these ladies occupying a room just doors down from James, as well as provoked by the insinuation that she’d been desperate to come here at all.

Which explained how she found herself saying the most horrifying words she might have ever uttered.

“You must come to dinner and see for yourself,” she said. “Tomorrow night.”

Daisy’s smile was feline. “We absolutely wouldn’t miss it for the world.”