Page 62 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal (Love from London #3)

F rom Gardening for the Estate-

Many of the finest estates in England possess an orangery—that is, a separate building, mostly glass, dedicated to the care and propagation of citrus fruits.

Not only are such structures functional—allowing for oranges, lemons, and limes to be used in the kitchens—but they offer a lovely respite where one might sit in warmth and enjoy the uniquely beautiful scent of citrus blooms.

The day of the picnic, Candace arrived at the lakeside spot early to inspect the decorations.

Mr. Scott and his men had erected poles around the clearing with strings of colorful flags draped from pole to pole, fluttering in the wind.

The effect was quite pleasing, the cheerfulness only added to by the bright quilts that lay over tarpaulins, decorating the green slope of grass.

A long table covered in checkered tablecloths rested to the side. Even now, servants organized numerous dishes atop it—biscuits, cakes, pies, and other desserts rested to one end, guarded by Benson himself.

At the other end, Mrs. Penn and Mrs. Davis rearranged platters of cold sliced meats, fresh baked rolls, a pot of beans, and what felt like a hundred other dishes.

Candace fretted about whether they’d run out of food before the picnic was complete, but Mrs. Penn assured her they’d made enough to feed an army.

Candace had worn the blue-striped coat dress. Perhaps it was a penance of sorts, or perhaps she wanted to prove to herself that her apology to the baroness had been genuine—that she would wear the very type of garb she’d mocked at that terrible dinner.

Or perhaps she wore it just to find out whether she had enough courage to do so.

Regardless, she stood inspecting the clearing, looking pretty as an oil painting, a daring little straw hat tipped forward to shield her eyes from the sun. A blue silk ribbon edged the hat, and silk flowers tucked under its brim in the back.

Her sister, Sophia, had sent the confection of a chapeau from Paris as a gift.

It routed its way to London, where the staff had forwarded it on to Devon.

It had arrived only yesterday, and Candace was delighted to find that the bouquet of blue, grey, and white flowers perfectly accented the coat dress Jacqueline had given her.

In the distance, a wagon trundled down the road toward the lake, followed by convivial groups of villagers walking behind it. The picnic was beginning.

It was just as she’d imagined it—the happy bunting, the quilts, the mountains of food. Even nature had cooperated. The sun shone benevolently in a bright blue sky. Birds chirped from green-leafed branches, and flowers in full bloom nodded approval atop their stems in the pleasant breeze.

It was perfect. Flawless.

Candace should be pleased. She could barely roust herself to feel anything.

Still, she was the hostess, and that came with certain responsibilities. She painted on a smile and went to greet the first of her guests.

Candace found there was benefit to inviting a hundred villagers to picnic by a lake—it made it far easier to avoid the few people she didn’t want to see.

The lakeside clearing was soon filled with laughter, the rumbling of a hundred conversations, and the clinking of dishes.

Shrieking children darted amongst the blankets, paying very little heed to those who advised them to slow down.

To the side, Mr. Scott and his helpers manned a grouping of lawn games. Later, there was to be an epic three-legged race. Even now, the younger set repeated potato sack hop-races with breathless delight.

At the end of the clearing, villagers climbed the marble steps of the rotunda and admired the statues within. Candace trusted that the footman she’d assigned to the garden folly would keep any young miscreants from smearing cupcake frosting upon the statues or otherwise defacing them.

The clearing resounded with the merry chaos of a successful party.

Still, Candace couldn’t help but notice when James and his entourage arrived.

Her heart spasmed when she saw that Miss Ritten stayed close to James's side.

All of the ladies in the group carried fluttering parasols to shield themselves from the sun.

Dressed in pale pastel silks, they stood out from the rest of the guests like elegant roses in a patch of wildflowers.

Across the way, Vera and the baroness waved at her from a blanket. Candace took the opportunity to cross and speak with them; by happy chance, they were in the opposite direction of James and the detestable ladies.

“Are you enjoying yourselves?” She hoped that she sounded carefree instead of how she actually felt—obsessed with James and Miss Ritten’s proximity.

“Very well, but how are you ?” Jacqueline frowned at something behind Candace, and it took all her power not to turn and look.

“Fine, fine,” she said, too quickly to be convincing. “It’s a perfect day for it.”

“It is. And might I comment on your lovely outfit?” Her eyes sparkled. “It suits you perfectly.”

She smoothed the striped coat dress. “Thank you again. It’s beautiful.”

Vera gave her a kind smile. “Would you like to join us?”

Candace shook her head. She instinctively wanted to remain on her feet until she saw where the flock of vultures landed. “I’m going to check in with Mrs. Penn and make sure there’s enough food momentarily.”

Candace thought Vera might have seen through her excuse, but her friend nodded anyway.

“The statues are incredible,” Jacqueline said. “To think they’ve been out here all this time. I had no idea! ”

“They were quite hidden by the trees. It took Mr. Scott nearly a fortnight to clear the area.”

“An effort well spent, I’d say.”

“Have you eaten?” Candace asked when the conversation threatened to sag into silence.

Vera nodded. “It was wonderful, though I might need to visit the desserts before they’re all gone.”

Jacqueline’s eyes fixed on something behind her once more. Terrified that it might be James or one of the awful ladies approaching, Candace gave a tight smile and headed in the opposite direction with a rushed goodbye to her friends.

She didn’t look back as she headed toward Mrs. Penn. The housekeeper directed the other servants with the strictness of any regiment commander.

“How is it going?” Candace asked, slightly breathless from her fast walk over uneven terrain.

“Very well, my lady.”

Candace nodded and chanced a glance over her shoulder. Behind her, James stood at the edge of the crowd, frowning in her direction. Their eyes met for a searing moment before Candace inhaled sharply and turned back to the housekeeper.

“Do you need help with anything, Mrs. Penn?”

The woman arched a knowing eyebrow. “Not at all. Feel free to return to the party.”

“I will in a moment. I just wanted to check and make sure that we’ve made enough food.”

“Yes, my lady. We should have plenty. Even the desserts.”

“Wonderful.” Candace nodded and dithered. “Wonderful.”

She looked back toward the party. James had been joined by Miss Ritten and Lord Cavendish. Still, he looked in her direction. When their eyes met once more, Candace ducked her head.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I might do to help?”

Mrs. Penn sighed. “You may check on Mr. Benson, if you must.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Penn.”

“Of course, my lady.” The woman shook her head, smiling, as Candace strode away to check on Benson and the dessert table.

Some time later, after most of the guests were served, Candace—lacking even the pretense of something productive to do—procured a plate of food and sat upon a bright quilt near the lake’s edge. She faced the water and ate her sandwich in small bites while barely tasting it.

“Candace, you look positively charming ,” Daisy Knope said from her side.

Candace turned gracefully with a smile instead of stiffening and scrambling the other direction, as instinct demanded.

“Thank you, Daisy. How do you find the picnic?”

“A bit rustic for my taste, of course.” She lowered herself to the blanket next to Candace and gracefully arranged her skirts. “But you look as if you belong here in the countryside.”

“Where are your companions?” she asked, ignoring the obvious barb.

She was surprised to find that Daisy’s thinly veiled insults had little power over her mood.

Perhaps it was because the loss of James had already sunk her as low as she could go.

Plunged as she was to the bottom of this miserable sea, Candace found she could barely hear Daisy’s words—they were too distorted by the deep waters of her own despair.

“They’re amusing themselves by watching the races.”

“And the marquess?” Candace added.

Daisy pursed her lips. “He wasn’t feeling well and returned to the house.”

“Ah.”

A sly smile gilded Daisy’s lips. “I noted the baroness was here.”

“I invited her personally.”

“You did?”

“Indeed.” Candace lifted her chin and forged ahead with what she wished to say.

“I regret my words about the baroness during our dinner party the other evening. Jacqueline is a fine woman, and she’s been a far better friend to me than I have been to her.

I hope to have half her grace, wit, and strength when I achieve her age. ”

Daisy’s eyes were wide, the corners of her mouth curled upward in amazed delight. “The lady wears pants . In public .”

“And what of it?” Candace sniffed. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m currently doing the same. The content of a lady’s character cannot be altered by her exterior trimmings.”

Daisy scowled.

Candace swallowed deeply. “It was a hard lesson for me to learn, but I think I understand it now. It doesn’t matter what someone wears, or what they look like, or even how many people like them.

It matters who they are. How kind they are to someone who isn’t in a position to do anything for them.

How loyal they are to their friends when no one’s watching. ”