Page 66 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal (Love from London #3)

F rom Gardening for the Estate-

A greenhouse or garden conservatory can be used to start seedlings before the planting season, as well as to grow more exotic plants that would suffer in the English clime.

Practical as they may be, they can also be beautifully designed and pleasing to look at, in order to increase the rarity of an estate garden.

Candace staggered back a step in surprise. “Percy! What are you doing here?”

For it was her brother, despite the fact that he was supposed to be in France for another month, at least. Percy’s hair stood up in that foppish way that let her know he’d been running his hands through it.

Those red strands were like a weather barometer for her brother’s moods—the higher the hair, the more irritated he was.

Right now, his hair stood very high, indeed .

“It’s my house, Candace. The real question is, what is everyone else doing here?”

James nodded. “Percy, wonderful to see you.”

“You, too, Canterbury. I expect you’ll visit us the first chance you get?”

There was a challenge in Percy’s tone that Candace didn’t quite understand. She frowned up at him.

“I’ll call upon you tomorrow, unless Arthur is ill. I must get him home,” James said. He glanced over his shoulder. The wagon was unloaded; his carriage was already being brought round.

“Of course,” Candace said stiffly. “I hope neither of you catches a cold.”

He bowed once more and walked away. Candace couldn’t keep herself from admiring the strong lines of his back beneath his wet shirt.

“Stop gawking and get inside,” Percy chided.

She sighed and followed him in; she had little energy left to deal with Percy’s mood.

They must have only just arrived. Inside, her new sister-by-law, Adelaide, was directing the delivery of a stack of trunks in the hallway. As several of the footmen belonged to James's household, and Adelaide had never visited Devon Manor before, the enterprise was having predictably slow results.

“Second floor. Third door on the left in the west wing,” Candace offered when Adelaide told one of James's footmen to take the trunk to the main bedchambers.

“Thank you,” Adelaide said, rushing over to kiss Candace’s damp cheek. “How are you? ”

“Quite well,” Candace said, smiling. “How was your trip? How was Paris?”

“No, no, no ,” Percy said, his fists propped on his hips. “No pleasantries or conversation until I sort out this mess.”

Adelaide and Candace shared similar expressions of amusement.

“Of course, darling,” Adelaide said with an indulgent wave of her hand. “By all means, proceed.”

“What on earth is going on here, Candace?” Percy demanded, rounding on her. He wrinkled his nose. “Have you been swimming ?”

Candace released the quilt from her shoulders; it slopped onto the marble tiles. “More like nearly drowning, though I suppose it all depends on perspective.”

“You nearly drowned? Where? What happened? And why are there two hundred people in the back pasture and a strange footman at the door who initially barred me from my own house? Where on earth is Mrs. Penn?”

“Percy dear,” Adelaide said, putting a hand protectively to her stomach. “Calm down. She cannot answer you if you’re badgering her. Let’s go into the parlor so she can at least stand near the fire while you interrogate her.”

Candace blinked, then tore her eyes away from her new sister.

Apparently, they hadn’t wasted their honeymoon; no wonder they were home earlier than expected.

Candace had seen numerous ladies make the unconscious signal that Adelaide had just given.

The marchioness probably wasn’t aware she’d let their news slip.

Thankfully, Candace was the only one who’d been around to notice.

She followed them to the parlor and stood near the fire. The heat instantly soaked through her wet clothing; she shuddered as the warmth thawed her.

“Very well. We’re in the parlor,” Percy said, his nostrils flaring. “Please, dear sister, explain the current set of bizarre circumstances.”

Adelaide rolled her eyes and sat on the sofa, propping her feet up next to her.

“I threw a garden party for the village.”

“Naturally,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “As one does.”

“Percy!” Adelaide chided. “Let her finish.”

“And Seamus fell in the lake, and Arthur went after him, and I of course had to try to save them both.”

“You went in on purpose ?” He ran a hand through his red hair, making it stand out at all angles as if he’d weathered an electrical storm.

Behind him, Adelaide gave a sigh—half amusement, half weariness.

Percy turned to his wife with a frown. “You had a dowry fit for a princess; you could have gone elsewhere.”

Adelaide laughed. “No, I couldn’t, you big brute. Not from the moment you walked in the door of Bainbridge, your shirt plastered to your great chest.”

Candace made a wordless sound of sisterly disgust, which only served to draw Percy’s attention back to her. “Arthur is Canterbury’s son, but who on earth is Seamus?”

“His, er...playmate.”

His forehead crinkled in concern. “Are they both unharmed?”

She nodded. “I retrieved Arthur. James retrieved me, and the other gentlemen got Seamus. ”

“James?” Percy’s eyebrows flew to his hairline. “Oh, it’s James now, is it?”

“Don’t let him pretend he’s shocked,” Adelaide called from the sofa. “We got your letter in London, which is why we raced here pell-mell.”

“I conveyed you in all possible comfort, my dear.”

“Tell that to my backside,” she grumbled.

“Perhaps later.”

“Ugh!” Candace whirled and strode toward the door, her self-righteous departure somewhat marred by her single squelching boot.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Percy said. “We have much to discuss!”

“I’m off to bathe before I catch my death from chill, or a strange disease from lake water. We can discuss it later,” she called over her shoulder.

But if Candace had hoped to forget about the episode in the lake in her bedroom, she was sorely mistaken.

“I came as quickly as I could,” Hortense said, bustling in several moments later. “I couldn’t get near the wagon, there was such a crush. I had to walk back.”

“You should have stayed.”

Candace sat at her dressing mirror. She pulled another pin from her tangled hair and winced.

“I’ve already bullied those footmen into bringing water for a bath.” Hortense nearly slapped her hands away from the nest of red strands and began gently extracting the pins. “They should be coming any moment. Thank goodness Mrs. Davis always has water warmed and ready.”

Candace sighed in gratitude. She was chilled—even though someone had beat her into the room and stoked the fire to near roaring. Mrs. Penn would be gratified to hear that her high standards lingered, even when she wasn’t physically in the house.

“I didn’t see you jump in, but I certainly heard about it,” Hortense said. “What on earth were you thinking?”

“I was thinking of Arthur, and that foolish dog of his.”

“You love him.”

“I don’t know,” Candace teased, wrinkling her nose. “He’s so very hairy .”

“Joking at a moment like this.” Hortense tsked and shook her head.

Candace met her gaze in the mirror. “I couldn’t let the dog drown. It would break Arthur’s heart—” She blinked. “Hortense, what’s that on your hand?”

Her maid grinned at her; Candace whirled and grabbed her fingers to get a better look. “Hortense, are you—did you get engaged ?”

She beamed. “That’s why I didn’t see you jump in. Thomas had the footmen clear everyone from the garden folly so we could be there alone. He again asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

“Oh, how wonderful!” Candace rose and threw her arms around her. “I’m so happy for you.” She set her back by the shoulders. “You are happy, right?”

“I’m over the moon with it. I really do love him.”

“I’m so glad.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Hortense broke away to open it to a parade of footmen, each bearing a full bucket.

Percy’s voice sounded down the hall. “Hurry up! My sister might even now be catching her death! ”

“I’m very sorry about him,” Candace murmured. “He’s always been a bit high-strung.”

“Not at all, my lady,” one of them said solemnly as steam feathered from the water he poured into the bathing tub.

Within minutes, the tub was filled, the door closed and locked against her brother’s concern, and Candace slipped into the tub before the deliciously hot fire.

Hortense kept two extra buckets close to the flames in case her lady became chilled, but Candace didn’t think there was any chance of it.

She was exceedingly warm, and delectably comfortable.

“It was dreadfully romantic, him diving in after you like that,” Hortense sighed for the third time, pressing a hairbrush to her chest and batting her eyelashes.

“Romantic?” Candace scoffed to hide her true feelings.

A small hope had unfurled in her heart like the most delicate tendril of growth.

She dare not share it with anyone—it wasn’t yet strong enough to stand up to any external winds.

“If that’s the way you see it, very well, but I swear that your engagement threatens to turn you downright sentimental. ”

“He carried you,” she exclaimed. “Out of the water.”

“Like a sack of potatoes.”

It wasn’t true—not in the least, but Candace used the argument to beat back the dangerous dream that had taken root. The truth was, she wanted to believe it had been romantic, that maybe the events of the day had softened James toward her.

But hopes were dangerous little weeds with very sharp thorns. They were difficult—if not impossible— to extract from one’s own heart before someone else tore them painfully out.

“He saved you.”

“I was there, remember? Now come here and help me wash all this romance out of my hair.”

Hortense chuckled as if she knew what Candace was doing but would allow it, and helped her wash her hair.