Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

T he following morning, Louise was awake before the rest of the household. Her mind was fixated on the fact that time was slipping away. A year now seemed no time at all to complete her book, and she was more eager than ever to finish it.

With that in mind, she rang for her maid earlier than usual and dressed before the rest of the household had risen. She descended the stairs to the gardens, wondering what time Christian had arrived home the night before. She was ashamed to say that she had waited up for him, hoping to hear him return, but she had fallen asleep before he did so.

The house was cold, and there was a light frost on the ground outside. She glanced up at the sky, knowing that her parents were visiting today and hoping for sunshine. Her mother loved sitting amongst the flowers, and despite the cold, she hoped they would still be able to do so.

She pushed open the outer door, hearing the crunch of frost as she stepped out. The sun’s weak rays had already melted the ice on the opposite side of the gardens, but the gravel beneath her feet glistened beautifully as she moved over it.

Clutching her notebook to her chest, she walked to the rear of the gardens. She had been curious about what might be growing there but had not yet had the opportunity to look.

She found many pots but not a great deal of growth. There were some canes in a few of the pots, ready for things to climb them. A strong smell of wild garlic emanated from the base of the garden wall. She already had hundreds of ideas bouncing around in her head, wishing to plant as much as she could.

“You’re awake early, Your Grace.”

She spun round to find Neilson behind her, his wiry frame leaning on his spade, his cap askew, his eyes twinkling.

“Good morning, Neilson. I did not see you arrive.”

“I was in the walled part of the gardens, Your Grace, seein’ to the wood.”

“Tell me, is there a reason this part of the gardens is so empty?”

Neilson straightened, looking about him with an assessing eye. “I suppose it wasn’t used much, Your Grace. The Dowager Duchess often had vegetables and the like planted, but not for years now. It’s rarely used, if I’m being honest. Needs tendin’ to and no one to decide on what to cultivate. Are you thinkin’ of plantin’ somethin’?”

“I am. Would it not be pleasant to have vegetables growing here? We could plant leeks and carrots, with some tomatoes, in early summer. It would be nice to see this part filled with growing things, do you not think?”

“Very well, Your Grace. I’d be happy to begin as soon as you give me instructions.”

“Good. I shall plan it and tell you what I think, but I would like your opinion on it. You know this garden well. What type of soil do we have here?”

Neilson raised his eyebrows, seemingly impressed, and scratched his head. “Loamy—back part’s mainly clay. It would be good for vegetables, as you say, Your Grace. I’ve added quite a bit of manure to the beds over the years, and some sand, too.”

They both moved to inspect the beds. Most of them were well-tended and free of weeds, but they were empty of anything interesting.

“Well, that is good news. I shall order some seeds directly.”

Neilson looked rather perplexed that she was taking such an interest, but Louise was happy to go against the grain.

Perhaps I have grown too used to being the Ice Queen .

“You remind me of His Grace’s mother,” Neilson said thoughtfully. “She loved the garden too, though she didn’t spend quite so much time trudgin’ about in the soil.”

Louise looked down to find her skirts were stained with mud again. The frosty grass had soaked them through, and she laughed at how foolish she’d been to come down in such a fine gown.

“Louise.”

She looked up, startled by the voice so close, only to find Christian standing before her. He looked utterly out of place in the gardens, his hair perfect, his coat and waistcoat just so, the chain of his fob watch gleaming in the sunshine.

“Good mornin’, Your Grace,” Neilson mumbled and then beat a hasty retreat back to the rear of the gardens.

Louise watched him go and then turned back to Christian, her irritation rising as she saw him look disapprovingly at her skirts.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” he asked, his voice sharp and cold.

“I might ask you the same question, seeing as you did not return until dawn.”

He smirked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Did you miss me?”

“I hardly needed to miss you. I have plenty of things to occupy myself with, without seeking your company.”

She had meant it to sound light, but his expression had annoyed her, and the words came out dismissive. His face was hard to read, but his lips pressed together into a line she was coming to recognize as a sign of his irritation.

“I see. Well, breakfast is ready when you have finished conversing with the flowers.”

“I’ll have you know that conversing with the flowers is much more enjoyable than speaking to most people in Society.”

“Because they do not answer back?” he asked sardonically.

“Because they listen,” she murmured softly.

She made to walk past him and head into the house, but he didn’t move. She rolled her eyes as she was forced to brush against his body through the thin strip of grass between the beds. A bolt of desire shot through her as his hand came up to steady her, and her gaze met his as she eased her way by.

“Your parents will be here this afternoon,” he said in a low, intimate voice.

“Yes, thank you. I am aware,” she answered shortly, trying to disguise the need he elicited in her.

The sun came out later that morning, and it was a warm enough day for them to have tea outside.

Christian could hear the low murmur of voices as he reached the doors to the gardens. Lord Northbridge was speaking to Louise, his hand folded behind his back in a strict manner. For a man who hadn’t a penny to his name, he was remarkably good at appearing respectable.

Christian stepped out into the warm spring air. Both Lady Northbridge and Louise had shawls around their shoulders, but Lady Northbridge was admiring the gardens with much enthusiasm.

He wondered whether his mother-in-law shared his wife’s love of plants and resolved to stay out in the gardens for as long as possible to ensure the ladies were entertained.

Lord Northbridge glanced behind him as Christian emerged, a familiar disdain flashing across his face before he gave a polite nod. Louise, to Christian’s surprise, seemed rather relieved by his appearance, and he moved quickly to her side, before bowing to Lady Northbridge.

“Good afternoon, Lady Northbridge, Lord Northbridge. You are most welcome.”

As they all moved to the table set out on the terrace at the edge of the lawn, he caught a glimpse of their reflections in the large glass windows looking out over the gardens. The Dawsons were all pale, classically English in their looks, whereas his darker Italian heritage was on obvious display. Christian looked at Louise’s father just in time to see him studying him with a sharp glare.

“And is your husband treating you well?” the Earl enquired, his eyes still fixed on Christian.

Louise stiffened, her bright blue gaze darting to Christian before she pursed her lips. “Of course, Papa,” she replied as the servants came out of the house, bearing tea trays laden with cakes.

Christian watched as the teacups were placed before each of his guests and the tea was dutifully poured. A cake stand piled high with beautiful delicacies was put in the center of the table, with two milk jugs on either side.

He waited patiently until the servants departed and then looked at the Earl with an expectant look. “How did you expect me to treat her?” he asked. “I have not yet had the opportunity to gamble her away on a hand of cards.”

Louise made a choked sound in the back of her throat as he picked up his teacup, very deliberately keeping eye contact with the Earl as he did so, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

To his dismay, the Earl seemed utterly unperturbed by his comments, but Lady Northbridge blushed profusely. His feelings of satisfaction were quickly soured by guilt.

“I am most glad to hear it,” the Earl said pompously, leaning over the table, plucking a macaron off the stand, and popping it into his mouth. “One can never tell.”

The weighted comment made Christian’s blood boil, and heedless of the ladies present, he could not hold back from making his feelings known.

“My Lord, you appear to have forgotten yourself. Just because I have married your daughter does not give you the right to insult me in my own home!”

“You have glorious gardens, Your Grace,” Lady Northbridge interjected loudly as her husband opened his mouth to snap back. “Such magnificent cherry trees. I am not used to seeing such large specimens in London gardens.”

Christian kept his eyes on the Earl for just a little longer before focusing on his mother-in-law. “It is all my mother’s work, I assure you. Although my Duchess has plans to expand the gardens, I believe.”

Louise leaned forward as though to elaborate on some of those plans, but her father interrupted her before she had a chance.

“I hope you have not forgotten yourself, Your Grace,” the Earl barked. “We have business to attend to, or did you think I simply came to have tea with you?”

Occasionally, Christian would get so furious that his anger would plateau out. He had always been aware of the Earl’s arrogance, but now that he knew him better, he sensed something more lacing his interjection.

The Earl of Northbridge was frightened . He was sitting in the presence of someone who had complete control over him, and it was clear that he wanted to affirm his authority—it was the only card he had left to play.

Christian was not inclined to allow him to get off so easily.

“Business, My Lord? I do not know what you speak of.”

The Earl’s cheeks turned red, but he did not lose his nerve. “You recall that you are in possession of something that is mine, which I would like you to return.”

“Ah, of course, yes,” Christian said, setting down his cup. “No. There is no business to speak of in that regard. I shall take care of my wife and her mother just as you asked. I expect nothing more from you on the matter. It is my pleasure to do it.”

Lord Northbridge’s eyes darted around the table briefly, but neither Louise nor her mother met his gaze. There was a painful silence as he recognized that he had been outplayed.

Now he knows I never planned to return the deed to him.

Christian leaned forward, picked a macaron from the stand, and popped it into his mouth, perfectly mimicking what the Earl had just done.

Slowly, the Earl sat back in his seat, dejected horror written all over his face. He fell silent, looking out over the grounds with a faraway look in his eyes.

Just as Christian was about to steer the conversation to lighter topics, the butler emerged from the house with several letters on a silver tray for Christian.

Careless of the Earl’s sour mood, Christian briefly sifted through them. “Thank you, Fenwick. Put them in my study.”

The butler nodded, before scurrying away.

Just then, Louise stood up rather abruptly and suggested that she and her mother take a turn about the gardens.

As the ladies moved off, Christian kept a watchful eye on his wife, noting the way her hips swayed as she stepped down onto the lawn. He glanced at the Earl, who seemed utterly disinterested in his wife and daughter, his gaze dark and angry.

If he wanted to befriend me, he shouldn’t have hurt my brother. It will not be long before I can get everything I need from him. All his assets are in my possession now.