Chapter 2

Chapter Two

“ Y ou are Miss Pembleton?”

Luke Baine, Duke of Warren, did his best to keep the surprise from his voice, but suspected he had not been wildly successful.

“I am.” Miss Pembleton replied, a flash of anger in her amber eyes.

She was nothing like he had expected. From the rumours about her, he had expected some mannish, arrogant oaf who would be better suited to life away from high society.

Though she was taller than her sisters, she was by no means too tall. Her face was fine featured, and her posture was all elegant sophistication.

Her black hair was somewhat untidy, but it was not unkempt. If she was not vying to become the next Duchess of Warren, he would be tempted to say that the messiness was rather... charming.

And her eyes... they glowed with barely restrained emotion.

“Then I must apologise for my mistake. As well as my own lateness.” Luke said smoothly, inclining his head towards Miss Pembleton. “I hope my brother explained the reason for my delay.”

“He did.” Duchess Emberly answered, and Luke turned to face her.

“Excellent.” Luke nodded.

“Shall we have some tea, and perhaps we might get to know one another?” Miss Pembleton directed her words at his brother.

“I think that is an excellent idea, Miss Pembleton.” Luke replied before Rodger had a chance to say anything.

Luke moved towards one of the sofas and gestured to the seats around him. “I trust your sisters will be joining us.”

“Of course.” Duchess Caden took a seat across from him.

Luke watched Miss Pembleton as she took a seat, studying her. Elegant but not controlled. She caught him looking at her, and paused with eyes locked on his before she turned and faced Rodger.

“So, Lord Baine. Why not tell me something of yourself? It seems prudent for us to get to know one another.” Miss Pembleton smiled encouragingly at Rodger.

Luke frowned. “That is a rather broad question, Miss Pembleton. How would one even begin to answer it?”

Miss Pembleton visibly leashed whatever comment she was about to say, instead replying with “Quite right, Your Grace. Allow me to clarify, Lord Baine,” she said pointedly before turning back to Rodger. “How do you like to pass your time, when you find you have some to spare?”

Luke clenched a hand into a fist and gently shook his head. Quick temper. That does not bode well; a Duchess must have an even temperament.

And Heaven knows if she marries Rodger, that is what she will one day become.

Rodger appeared not to have noticed the exchange and replied happily. “As I was saying before my brother arrived, I rather enjoy reading, philosophy in particular. And of course, keeping up my correspondence, there is nothing quite so invigorating as discourse between intellectual equals.”

“How lovely!” she smiled politely.

“You do not share this interest?” Rodger asked, and Luke did not miss the knowing look Miss Pembleton’s sisters shared.

“I enjoy lively discourse, though I am not much of a reader. I much prefer to be out of doors.” Miss Pembleton gestured to the window.

“How lovely,” Rodger smiled before silence took over, and with it his little brother started to bob his knee.

Luke took a deep breath, knowing that there were few things that made Rodger more anxious than prolonged silences. He cleared his throat.

“Doing what exactly?” Luke asked.

Her amber eyes narrowed slightly as she adjusted her posture before addressing him. “Well, I rather enjoy gardens and gardening.”

“Are you interested in the practical application of your understanding of aesthetics that draw you to them?” Rodger asked, relieved to be able to turn the conversation to matters he was comfortable discussing.

“I beg your pardon?” Miss Pembleton smiled politely, but as Rodger went on to explain how different gardens followed the rules of certain schools of thought, it was clear that he only confused her.

“_ in fact many gardeners ought to consider the interplay of the sublime and the beautiful, as seen in Burke’s works.”

“The sublime?”

“Exactly! Our connection to the sublime through the beauty of nature must be the main priority!” Rodger continued. From her perplexed expression, Luke suspected the young woman’s confusion on the term as opposed to his logic.

“I see...”

“I am so glad you do! I was actually talking to my brother about this the other day! How one mustn’t ignore how the eye travels through the scenery. A properly situated garden lends to the sublimity of the expanse, offering both aesthetic counterpoint and philosophical musing. Yet, I fear some prefer anachronistic rococo excess over the subtle discourse of natural proportion.”

“I admit I am not well versed in all this. All I know is what I enjoy to look at and how I can make it more efficient.”

“Ah yes, that too is nice.” Rodger said and busied himself with taking a sip of tea. And when he could not think of anything his knee started bobbing again.

“So, you are more interested in the nature of problem solving and cultivation as it pertains to gardening? Either of course, would be most interesting. To see the planning of a garden is to see how one’s mind works, either in logic or in taste.” Luke added, thinking of how much work he had put into the gardens of his own estate. I thought it would be straightforward to create a thing of beauty, but I was mistaken.

“You are interested in my mind?” Miss Pembleton turned towards him; an eyebrow raised.

“Of course, I am. Looks, Miss Pembleton, may fade, but it is a mind that holds a man’s interest. And while the former is of no doubt, I am intrigued to know more about the later,” Luke explained.

Miss Pembleton nodded, and Luke could swear that she was blushing.

“Meaning that, our parents always said that cultivating the mind is just as important as cultivating appearances. Socially that is,” Luke added before Miss Pembleton could say anything. “Given how accomplished your sisters are, I am sure you’ll meet all expectations?”

“Whose? Yours, Your Grace? Here I assumed I was meant to impress your brother.”

“If you managed to impress me, then you will surely impress Rodger. Though that is not an easy task.”

“Your faith flatters me, Your Grace.” Miss Pembleton raised her chin, challenge shining in her gaze. “And to answer your question, I appreciate the aesthetics of gardens and the interesting mental challenge that gardening and planning such things offer. But if I am to be quite honest, it is the physical act of gardening, nurturing and creation that I love the most.”

His brows shot up. He rejected the first few replies that came to his mind, instead opting for something more... polite. “Are you not worried about becoming injured?”

“I do not see any harm in it. Besides, the groundskeepers are there to help me if I ever need anything.” Miss Pembleton’s smile spelled ‘victory’. “After all, I am hardly strong enough to wield all the necessary tools that such work requires. Though it is perhaps flattering that you seem to think me so capable.”

Luke opened his mouth to further express his worries, but Rodger asked, “Is that how you learned to garden?”

Luke gave him a look that said he knew what his brother was doing, but Rodger was looking intently at Miss Pembleton. Clearly his social awkwardness comes second to peace-making...

“Of course! Who better to learn from than those who make it their life’s work to tend to such things?” Miss Pembleton suppressed a smile when she glanced at him, and he noted the growing tightness to his jaw.

“It is not a question of who best to learn from, but a question of propriety.” Luke explained, his voice level and even.

Miss Pembleton arched an eyebrow at him. “I am never unchaperoned with them.”

“I should hope not!” Luke shook his head. “But that does not make it appropriate for a young lady.”

“I like to think of it as stretching propriety.” Miss Pembleton flashed him a smile.

Rodger laughed softly, and one of her sisters seemed ready to amend Miss Pembleton’s statement. But he was not done. “There is no such thing as stretching propriety. Behaviour is either within the realms of such a thing or it is not.”

“Quite so,” agreed Duchess Emberly, “and as I am sure you know Emily has all the fine accomplishments of a young lady! Why she only need to hear a piece once to be able to play it.”

Rodger seemed impressed, though neither of them heard this for the first time, and was about to ask her something... but Miss Pembleton could not let it go.

“Are you always so black and white in your thinking? Or is it only in the matter of gardening that you get... peeved?” Miss Pembleton asked, an edge to her voice.

He is too trusting for his own good . An improper wife could be his downfall, and ever worse, the downfall of their children.

“You will have to forgive my brother, Miss Pembleton, he is not quite as philosophical as I am.” Rodger grinned. The bastard was amused! At his expense!

“Philosophy does not enter into it.” Luke pointed out. “It is not proper.”

“I thought you said that a woman’s mind was the most important aspect of her character. Am I not simply strengthening my mind by learning? How would you propose to do such things?” Miss Pembleton said.

She thinks to use my own words against me. Luke gave her a flat look and then gestured to the bookshelves around them. “Through books of course, like a civilised person.”

“Are gardeners not civilised?”

Luke shook his head, sensing that she was trying to trap him with her rhetoric. “Of course they are, but a gardener will be limited in the knowledge he can pass down, and biased at that. A single person cannot be the font of all knowledge.”

“But books are generally written by one person. Surely, they are just as fallible in that instance? Books curate the knowledge they impart, in the same way that a gardener would share what skills he feels are best suited.”

“But many books together offer a greater scope of knowledge. Besides, books are the proper way to learn,” Luke insisted.

“Well, what if the gardener had written a book? Would that not be the same as reading then? So I might as well just talk to many gardeners.” She turned away from Luke, smiling at Rodger as she explained. “Besides, I like to be able to see things, to smell them, to touch them. Books cannot pass down the sensation of leaves beneath your fingers, nor can they capture just how physically exhausting gardening is.”

“Which is why ladies tend to hire gardeners.”

“I-” Miss Pembleton began, but before she could say anything, Duchess Emberly said loudly, “What is your favourite flower, Lord Baine?”

“I would be hard pressed to pick just one, Your Grace. But I believe roses are quite pretty.” Rodger said, his lips twitching with barely-disguised amusement.

“In that case, Emily could show you around the rose gardens here,” Duchess Emberly suggested. “She had quite an active part in arranging them. And my sister and I could keep your brother company while we chaperone!”

Luke did not miss the grateful look Miss Pembleton shot at her sister. There was clear love and affection between the sisters. Yet, this only proved his point: even they knew they had to protect her from her own words.

But what would happen when her sisters were not around, which would be the case if she were to marry Rodger?

As Luke opened his mouth to respond, a clock chimed five times.

“I am afraid we must take our leave of you gentlemen.” Duchess Emberly stood, and her sisters stood with her. “We must get changed and ready for dinner.”

“Of course.” Luke stood up, gesturing for Rodger to do the same.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Pembleton.” Rodger smiled to the young woman.

“And you, Lord Baine.” Miss Pembleton replied. “I look forward to us getting to know one another better. Perhaps next time, your brother might permit you to ask your own questions.”

Without waiting for a response, Miss Pembleton swept from the room and her sisters followed her. Luke shook his head, his jaw tight. He strode from the room and Rodger fell into step beside him.

They walked in silence until they reached the guest suites that had been assigned to them, connected by a common sitting area. Luke ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“Well, that was certainly not what I expected.” Rodger said into the silence. “Miss Pembleton is nothing like those rumours.”

“She is much smarter than they gave her credit for, prettier too.” Luke agreed. “But I do not think the rumours entirely without substance.”

“I liked her. She seemed rather nice.” Rodger shrugged and began to look through the stack of books he had brought with them.

Luke only just managed not to gape at his brother. “Nice? Brother, you cannot seriously be considering her?”

“Why ever not?” Rodger raised an eyebrow at him, his hand pausing in its search for an appropriate title.

“She would be most unsuitable. The woman clearly has a temper.” Luke thought of the flashes of anger he had seen in the young woman.

“Only because you goaded her. She was lovely towards me.” Rodger returned to his stack of books.

“You are too trusting, brother, too willing to see the best in people. It is one of your more admirable qualities, but I feel in this instance it may also be your downfall.”

The memory of her sharp, amber eyes glared at him through his memory. How she squinted just before she landed a verbal blow, as if she calculated and analysed her best approach.

Luke shook his head, trying to dismiss Miss Pembleton’s face from it. “She is far too opinionated.”

“Perhaps that will be a good thing. And she held her own just fine against you.” Rodger began to thumb through the volume. “Perhaps I should lend her something to read to help her in your future verbal matches. It is a shame there is not yet a good translation of Kant.”

“The woman said she did not care for such things.” Luke felt his heart sink. He is far too optimistic, I doubt he will find anyone who wants to discuss Kant’s treatise on materiality anywhere near as much as he does.

“No, what she said was that she preferred to do other things, like being out of doors.”

“Exactly. She gardens! And not in the way a lady should.”

“That is hardly the worst thing in the world. It just means she has a more active approach in the things that interest her. Besides, you get involved in more things than most of the aristocracy.” Rodger pointed out. “Most people would not supervise their servants the way you do, nor would they let such things make them late for a meeting with other members of the ton.”

“That is different.” Luke made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“I do not see how.”

Luke shook his head at his brother. “I am trying to make sure things are done to an appropriate standard. To ensure that everything is as it should be. That is hardly the same as getting in the way of servants simply to satisfy my own curiosity.”

“It does not sound like she gets in the way.” Rodger said.

“It is not appropriate behaviour.”

“Does it really matter?”

“Of course it does.”

“But it is causing no one any harm.”

“That is not the point.” Luke massaged his temples with his thumb and forefinger. How am I supposed to make him understand?

His father’s familiar cold, blue eyes floated to the forefront of his mind. Propriety and order, that is all that separates us from beasts. Luke stood up straighter.

“Well, I like her. At least she is willing to have a conversation about something other than the weather or the latest fashions! I think she could make wonderful company. And I am sure you will too if you give her a chance.” Rodger flipped open one of his books and began to read.

“I have given her a chance. Several, in fact.” Luke began to pace about the room.

“You were against this from the start. You promised me that you would keep an open mind.” Rodger’s voice was dispassionate.

“I am keeping an open mind, but this is the future of the duchy we are talking about.” Luke snapped back.

“I am not a duke.” Rodger looked up briefly from his book.

“You are not yet a duke.” Luke reminded him. “I will not be here forever, and you must carry on the family line.”

An odd look flitted across Rodger’s face, but it was gone too quickly for Luke to understand its meaning. “You could always have your own family. Your own wife and children. I might never inherit the title.”

“I will never marry. You know this, Rodger.” Luke pressed the bridge of his nose. It was all because of that infuriating woman; she riled him up and now his temper was short. “You will be Duke or at least your children will be. Which is why it is important you marry well. End of discussion,” Luke insisted.

Such a shame second sons cannot inherit. The words came floating to the forefront of his mind, and Luke shook his head.

“Look, we have agreed to be here for the fortnight, and I for one am curious. Perhaps the two of you could talk some more during the garden tour.”

“You are too determined to see the good in people.” Luke sighed.

“You say that like it is a bad thing.” Rodger’s eyes narrowed in confusion and then he caught sight of the clock and stood. “Oh goodness, is that the time? We should get dressed for dinner. I shall go find Haversham and Thatcher.”

“Do not think this is the end of this conversation, brother.” Luke called after him, but his brother was already out the door.

He scowled at the window. His brother simply did not understand the way of the world. I should not have sheltered him so much. I thought it a kindness at the time but now I am not so sure.

Absently, he rubbed his upper arm, the smell of stale whiskey briefly filling his nose. He pushed the memory violently away. He would make his brother see sense. He had to.

I will not let him marry Miss Pembleton, not if it is the last thing I do. He would not let her ruin his brother’s future.