Page 61 of The Unwanted Duchess

CHAPTER 20

Graham knew that Samantha would make changes to their home, but he had not expected to feel so much from a single view.

Doing nice things for the sake of being nice had not been instilled into him by his father, of course, but he had held onto such a trait nonetheless. At last, there was an opportunity to do something for his wife, and the inspiration came to him immediately.

Unfortunately, he was so utterly useless with floral arrangements that he could not do it himself, but he was determined to at least make an attempt.

“Davis,” he said the following morning, approaching the gardener.

“Your Grace,” he replied quickly, “if this is about the vines —”

“It is, but you need not look so concerned. I am here to thank you, not punish you.”

“But your father —”

“It was not my father’s room. It was my mother’s, and she would have adored it. Believe me, you have done the right thing by listening to my wife. I have not come here to speak down to you but to ask a favor. I wish to do something for her in return, but I do not know what. Might you have any ideas? I was hoping to put something in the garden where she could see it from her window, perhaps about there?”

He pointed in the direction of the pavilion. It was in good condition structurally, but it had been left bare for so long that it was now a miserable sight.

“I certainly have an idea,” Davis noted. “Leave it to me, and I shall handle the matter.”

“But I was hoping to help,” he sighed. “I want to do something nice for her, especially given all that she is doing for us.”

“Then you can help me with the planning,” he suggested. “Would you be able to find out her favorite flower for me? She seemed quite knowledgeable of them when we were speaking yesterday, and so I am quite sure that she will have one.”

“How do I do that without relating it to the plan?”

“I do not know; that is why you are best to do it. If I ruin your surprise, it is my fault, but if you do it, then…”

Graham could not help but laugh with him.

“Very well, I shall do my best.”

“But not cornflowers, if she says those,” Davis said quickly. “She has already made me quite aware of that one.”

Graham went to find his wife, who was sitting in the drawing room, and tried to find a way to broach the subject with her inconspicuously.

“Did you enjoy your morning in the garden?” she asked, and he was positive that he had turned white.

“I- well- yes, I did,” he stammered.

“Is everything all right?” she asked. ‘You seem ill at ease.”

Graham had never had an issue with keeping secrets before, and he cursed himself. Why now? It was not as though he was hiding something terrible from her after all.

“No, not at all,” he said rather too quickly. “Only, it is terribly hot today. It must be making me feel strange.”

“Then come and sit with me. Perhaps that might aid you?”

He seated himself beside her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder as if instinctively. It was a new feeling, but he had to admit that he liked it a great deal. She felt lovely, as though she fit there perfectly.

“Davis was telling me of your love for cornflowers,” he said carefully.

“Oh, they are lovely, are they not? So delicate and yet so blue.”

“Are they, dare I ask, a favorite of yours?”

“One of them, yes, but not my most favorite. That would have to be hortensias.”

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