Page 16 of Matching Mr. Montfert (Apsley Family #2)

Chapter sixteen

Grace

The drawing room at Apsley Court was quickly becoming a garden with the number of floral arrangements filling the space. I sat next to Annette on the sky-blue settee nearest the window as Lady Paxton examined each bouquet and read the notes attached to them aloud. Annette seemed to grow more weary with each one, and more bouquets continued to arrive.

“You should be flattered,” said Lady Paxton.

Annette crossed her arms. “It is impossible to be flattered when at least half of my callers were sent by my brother. Do you know how utterly embarrassing that is? He made it seem as though I could not get any on my own. I do not even want them. I shall get him back for this.”

“You will not be getting me back for anything.” Rus entered the room, apparently having overheard his sister’s threat. His nose scrunched. “My, but it is smelly in here.”

“You can blame yourself,” Annette spat. “Had you not sent every bachelor within a mile of London to dance with me last night, this room would not look like the offspring of Kew Gardens.”

“Come now, Netty. I did not send every bachelor. Just the ones I thought might annoy you most.” Rus took a seat in one of the armchairs and stretched his long legs leisurely out in front of him. “You should be thanking me.”

Annette scoffed. “Thanking you? That is not what I have in mind at all.”

“Fortunately for me, murder is considered a criminal offense by both God and country.”

“Newgate might be worth it,” Annette mumbled.

Rus leaned forward, catching her gaze. “We both know you would never survive prison or any sort of cage like it. And besides, deep down, you love me.”

Annette smiled wryly. “It is so very deep.”

“Perhaps I can reel it to the surface, at least temporarily. I have a way to make up for all of this.” He gestured to the bundles of flowers decorating the room.

His sister narrowed her eyes. “How?”

“By telling you the message each of these buffoons unwittingly sent in their floral arrangements.”

I chuckled. I had forgotten Rus’s odd knowledge about plants and their meanings. He had gathered the information while touring the continent and, for whatever reason, clung to the wisdom. I knew very few gentlemen who could have entire conversations about the meaning behind certain flowers. Nor ladies, for that matter, including myself. According to Rus, it was all the rage in France, and much could be conveyed based on the color and type of flower within an arrangement.

Which meant an evaluation of Annette’s bouquets would prove highly entertaining.

Annette sat up straighter, clearly intrigued. “Go on.”

“Let us start with the one by Mother. Rhododendrons for danger—which is not entirely inaccurate since they are for you—Lavender for distrust, and Pansies for thoughtfulness. How lovely and so adequately unclever. Who is that one from?”

“Lord Kingsley,” Lady Paxton answered.

“Ah, well, we cannot be too surprised, can we? A man who wears a canary yellow hat would send something so ridiculous.”

A giggle burst from Annette, and she waved him on. “The next one, if you please.”

We continued that way for the next hour, Rus telling us the unintentional message of each bouquet and us laughing, often to the point of tears. Even Lady Paxton struggled to retain her composure.

Whatever animosity existed between brother and sister faded for the time being, and I was given yet another glimpse at the affection between them. Whether it was regularly visible or not, the two of them did love one another.

The butler brought in another bouquet, and Lady Paxton immediately picked through the pink roses and blue and white flowers to find the note. Her eyes roamed the card, and then she met my gaze, a smile pulling at her lips. “This one is for you, Grace.”

“Me?” I sputtered. “Why would I get flowers? I did not dance—”

My mouth snapped closed. I never expected flowers because I had never expected to dance this Season. But I had, with one man. The bouquet could only have come from Phillip.

Lady Paxton read the name on the card, confirming my suspicions, then finished with the short note. “Thank you for the most agreeable dance of the evening.”

Annette gripped my arm. “You danced? When? I thought you had no intention of stepping onto the floor?”

Warmth bloomed through my cheeks, and I shook my head. “I didn’t. We never…that is…Mr. Montfert danced with me in the alcove past the refreshment tables. We were still within view, mind you, but he knows about my leg and…well, I suppose he wanted me to have at least one dance and not have to worry about the embarrassment my leg might cause.” My smile appeared with the memory. “The man practically danced around me. It was rather sweet of him.”

I glanced at my cousins. Annette was staring at me with suggestive, raised brows, and Rus’s expression was nothing but smug.

“It did not mean anything,” I blurted, knowing all too well where their thoughts had gone. “He is my…friend.” Technically, he was my client, but I could not state as much with my aunt in the room. Besides, Rus and Annette both knew the true nature of my affiliation with Mr. Montfert.

Annette turned to her brother. “What do Grace’s flowers mean?”

“I will tell you if you want, Grace,” Rus said. “But you should first know I was with Montfert when he picked them out, and he specifically asked me for flowers that represented certain words.”

My stomach twisted with discomfort. What word would Mr. Montfert have chosen for a message? Did I want to know?

Did I want everyone in the room to know?

Curiosity won out. I swallowed. “You may tell me, Rus.”

He nodded, but there was no teasing glint in his eyes when he responded. “The pink roses mean grace. The periwinkle is symbolic of new friendship and the magnolia perseverance.”

My heart sputtered. Mr. Montfert had chosen a flower that matched my name, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he meant more by it. I had never considered myself graceful, despite what I had been dubbed at birth. How could I with a bum leg that kept me from doing things I would otherwise enjoy?

As for the magnolia, I could deduce his meaning well enough. And new friendship? Well, it pleased me that he thought of us as friends.

Lady Paxton brought the flowers to me, and as I held them, I rubbed one of the soft petals between my fingers. Even though Mr. Montfert had taken the time to dance with me, no matter how odd of a dance it was, I still had not expected him to send flowers. His kindness and consideration struck something within me, and a wave of emotion brought hot tears to my eyes.

“Oh, Grace.” Annette placed her hand on my arm, her brows furrowed in concern. “What is the matter?”

I shook my head, chuckling. “Nothing. Truly, I am well. I simply did not anticipate this. It was very thoughtful.”

“Thoughtful, indeed,” said Lady Paxton. “This Mr. Montfert seems like a very kind gentleman.”

There was a question in her tone, one I could not answer. I brushed away my tears and swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “He is.”

Drat it all, even Rus was watching me intently, his eyes considering. I needed to get a hold of myself before the wrong impression settled so firmly in their minds I would not be able to remove it. Before I could shift our conversation to a safer topic, the butler entered again, this time announcing a visitor.

“Lieutenant Paget has come to call,” he said.

“Show him in,” Lady Paxton answered promptly.

Well, I could not have come up with a better distraction than Annette’s sworn enemy paying her a visit.

The moment he entered the room, the lieutenant’s gaze fell on her, and his mouth ticked upward into a wide grin. His navy blue coat matched his twinkling eyes and set off his dark hair in a way that made him objectionably handsome. I doubted even Annette would argue, at least not were she being honest with herself.

The lieutenant bowed, his gaze never leaving my cousin. “Good morning.”

Pleasantries were exchanged, and Lady Paxton invited the man to sit down and take tea with us, but he refused the offer. “I am fine, thank you. I am here on business.”

Annette scoffed in disbelief, and the lieutenant’s brows raised in challenge. Annette composed herself. “Business, you say. I thought perhaps you had come to deliver a bouquet yourself since you failed to send one this morning. But I see you are lacking in manners or perhaps have been gone from Society for so long you have forgotten post-ball etiquette.”

“Annette,” Lady Paxton warned.

The lieutenant clasped his hands behind him. “I have not forgotten anything.”

Annette’s jaw clenched. “So you failed to send them intentionally. I should take offense.”

“It seems to me you already have.” He was grinning now, so wide he dazzled the room with his perfectly straight teeth. “Believe me, Miss Apsley, had I known it would cause you so much displeasure, I would have sent them. You see, I was under the impression any bouquet sent from me would be met with disdain. Trampled or crushed. I was thinking of the flowers. You might say I saved a few lives by forgoing proper post-ball etiquette.”

My cousin sucked in a breath, fury burning in her blue eyes.

Rus was on the verge of uncontrollable laughter, and I dared not look at him too long or else burst from amusement myself. The lieutenant seemed to know precisely how to vex Annette, his jabs carefully curated with both sting and wit, then delivered in such a way as to sound courteous.

“I must beg your forgiveness for my assumptions,” he continued. “I will rectify the mistake with haste and be certain not to make it next time.”

“Perhaps there ought not be a next time,” my cousin practically growled.

“Annette,” Lady Paxton chided. “You will watch your tongue.”

My cousin bit down on her lip, clearly struggling to obey. The lieutenant winked at her with a devilish smile before directing his attention to her mother. “I took no offense, my lady. But alas, as much as I do enjoy such wonderful company, I have come to speak with Lord Paxton, should he be amiable to it.”

Lady Paxton’s smile fell, and a heaviness filled her voice. “I am certain he would not oppose your visit, but I must request that you return another time. My husband is not feeling his best today.”

My uncle had been unwell since the ball, and no matter how many times we inquired after the matter, Lady Paxton assured us he would recover. Still, I sensed she was not perfectly honest with us, and if Annette and Rus’s frown were any indication, they were not convinced either.

“I am sorry to hear it,” the lieutenant responded, genuine concern drawing his brows together. “I wish him a speedy recovery.”

“We appreciate that,” said Lady Paxton.

Lieutenant Paget hesitated a moment before his grin returned. “Well, since I am already here, perhaps Miss Apsley would care to take a ride with me? My gig is parked not far from Hyde.”

Annette looked as though she might explode, and she turned a pleading look to her mother. Lady Paxton fought a smile, and one of her auburn brows lifted. Annette had an agreement to keep, and my aunt would not allow her daughter to back out of it without conceding that agreement.

Annette closed her eyes as if her next words were painful. Perhaps they were. “I would be honored to ride with you, Lieutenant.”

“Excellent. Shall I wait by the door while you retrieve your bonnet and gloves?”

“And a chaperone,” Lady Paxton added. “Perhaps Eliza would be best.”

Annette stood with a forced smile. “Very well, I will fetch my things and my lady’s maid.”

Rus, who had been quiet through the entire exchange, waited until the two of them had gone from the room before speaking. “The lieutenant vexes Netty greatly.” He slumped back against the cushions, crossing one knee over the other. “I approve. She should marry that one.”

And the matchmaker in me could not have agreed with him more.