36. Cuttings

Chapter thirty-six

Cuttings

A little before noon, a message from the house called Josephine away from her precious garden, leaving Louisa to finish the tour at her own leisurely pace. Gyles looked around to make sure the Malmaison gardeners were otherwise occupied and then approached Louisa as an equal might. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"A better question for you, I would think."

"As you can see, I followed your instructions not to cut any flowers without invitation." It had required a good deal of self-restraint on his part, but that self-restraint had been encouraged by his concern for Louisa and his distress over the empress' advice.

"The empress gave me invitation to do so before she left, so I think we are safe to proceed. Come, you must tell me which ones you want, and I will cut them for you."

Gyles' eyes brightened, but he had no intention of forgetting the overheard conversation in the excitement over rose clippings. "Over here." He nodded to a variety from India. Handing the basket to Louisa, he pulled a penknife from his pocket. "Better if I cut them…there's a bit of an art to it."

She acquiesced without comment. He knelt by the rosebush to find the place where the stem met the main branch.

"This one is unique," said Louisa perfunctorily.

He looked up at her with a wry grin. "Oh, is that so, milady? And how would you say it differs from the white rose across the path?"

"Don't tease me," said Louisa, trying to be cross but unable to hold back a smile. "Not everyone can like roses as much as you do. I was just trying to be polite."

Gyles chestnut head bent back toward the rosebush. The air in the humid greenhouse felt increasingly warm. "I hope you don't feel the need to be too polite to your cousin."

"What do you mean?" Her voice turned suspicious.

"I overheard the empress quizzing you about him. It sounds like he's about to make you an offer."

Louisa breathed in sharply. "You understood that?" Apparently, she had been unaware of Gyles' growing abilities to understand French and was not pleased with the opportunity that it had afforded him. "What if he does? What business is that of yours?"

"None," admitted Gyles, making a sharp diagonal cut through the woody stem. He laid the piece in the basket. "I suppose marriage to your cousin would establish your place in Paris."

"Yes."

"And I suppose your cousin is a much more attractive prospect than Solomon Digby."

"Are you trying to convince me to accept him? "

"No," said Gyles brusquely. The penknife almost slipped and cut his finger as he was positioning himself to cut another branch. "I think it would be most unwise of you to do so."

"Why is that, Mr. Pebble?"

Slowly, Gyles rose to his feet. It was no use telling her his vague suspicions about something havey-cavey afoot with the agent from the bank. Monsieur Dupont had made no reappearance in connection with the count. But there were other objections to the Comte Dammartin. "You're almost at your majority. It's only a few more months and then you can go back to London safely. Why throw away your independence now on a frivolous fellow who is not likely to be faithful to you?"

"Could that not be said about all men? Even the enchanting Josephine could not keep Napoleon's interest forever."

"No, it could not be said about all men," said Gyles firmly. He leaned toward her and placed a stem inside the basket she held. Their eyes met and he saw the hard look shielding her soul underneath. It was the brittle bulwark of someone who had been wounded too often and grown armour to protect herself against further injury. "I'm sorry that you've been led to believe as much. I wish—"

"This is none of your affair," said Louisa sharply, refusing to let him say more. "Our conversation is finished, Mr. Pebble. Gather your own roses as you may." She thrust the basket into his chest, forcing him to take the handle before it dropped to the ground. "I will be returning to the house."

Without another word, she turned and hurried down the gravel path on the floor of the greenhouse until she found her bonnet and pelisse and went out the door, taking advantage of a break in the rain to return to the manor.