Page 67 of Her Bear of a Duke

"But– it must have been so expensive, and–"

"And look beside it."

Dorothy shifted her gaze to the flower sitting next to it. It was not the done thing to cry when in company, but in an instantshe felt tears welling in her eyes. It was not what Morgan had planned, but it could not have been revealed in a better way. Her bird of paradise sat proudly next to a tiger lily.

Her favorite flower beside his.

CHAPTER 24

Morgan had planned his surprise perfectly.

He would wait until their guests had retired to their bedchambers, and then he would find Dorothy and bring her to the glasshouse at night. The moonlight would shine onto the flowers he had purchased, and he would tell her what he had been trying to say for the last few days.

He was falling for her, and he had no intentions of stopping himself.

He did not know if she would feel the same, or if she would tell him that they had their arrangement and she wished to keep to it, but he had to tell her or else he would burst.

Unfortunately, his gift had slipped his mind entirely when he allowed the ladies and Catherine to visit the glasshouse, and the surprise was ruined. That did not matter to him, however, as Dorothy was smiling and that was all that he cared about.

"I feel as though this would be more special if we knew their meanings," Lady Beatrice chuckled softly. "Dorothy, have you ever told us what these mean in flower language?"

"I have not," she replied, "but the bird of paradise is my favorite flower, and the tiger lily is His Grace's."

Morgan placed a hand on Catherine's shoulder gently.

"And when you are older," he explained, "you may choose your favorite, and we shall place it with them."

"Oh, Uncle, that would be lovely! My favorite is tulips now, but that is not nearly as interesting."

"I would disagree," Lady Cecilia said kindly. "Personally, I love tulips. They need not be exotic to be interesting."

"Yes, they are my favorite too," Lady Annabelle said, perhaps a little too quickly. "Especially the yellow ones."

Catherine wrinkled her nose.

"I do not like the yellow ones. The pink ones are nicer. Aunt Dorothy told me that they mean love and good wishes."

"Indeed," Dorothy said warmly, "although the yellow ones mean happiness which is just as lovely."

She was trying to keep the peace with Lady Annabelle, but their guest was quite clearly opposed to that. It was evident that Lady Annabelle had very little interest in being a friend to his wife, but as she was not doing anything outwardly hostile, he let it lie. Lady Annabelle had always expected that she would be successful, and she had been hit with the realization that she was not and it was normal for her to envy the Duchess that she could have been.

When the time came to leave the glasshouse, they did so in pairs. Dorothy walked beside him, Lady Beatrice with Lady Emma, and Catherine with Lady Cecilia, leaving Lady Annabelle alone. She clearly seemed disgruntled by Catherine not choosing to walk with her, but she soon shook that from her and walked with Morgan and Dorothy instead. It had only been a few short days, but he was already quite prepared for her to return to her own household and leave him be. He hated the reminder of all that had happened between them, and he hated that it clearly made Dorothy think of something that, while she had not shared it with him, bothered her a great deal.

"Might you grow a yellow tulip with the pink one?" she suggested to Dorothy.

"If that is what Catherine decides, although I do not believe that she will want a yellow one. She said herself that she dislikes them."

"Yes, but if it is to be a family garden, with each member of it having a flower, then you ought to add mine too. We are family, after all."

"I shall ask my husband," she replied politely.

Morgan knew that he would say no, of course.

"Uncle Morgan!" Catherine called suddenly. "Come and look at this!"

He turned to see that his niece and Cecilia were looking at something in the ground, and as he had always done he went to look at it with her. It was only as he reached them that he realized he had left Dorothy with Lady Annabelle, but he knew nothing would happen. The other two ladies were far too close, and Lady Annabelle knew not to jeopardize her position as a guest.

It was a ladybird, which was one of her favorite insects. She held out a finger, and it crawled across it before sitting itself in her palm.

---