Page 17 of Redemption for the Baron

“Captain Thomas Grenville, Baron of Bother, at your service,” he said with an amused bow.

His playfulness broke through her reserve.Baron of Bother. She gently shook her head. “So, you’re the elusive Captain Grenville everyone’s been anticipating.” She arched an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t aware I was the subject of such discussion.” A mischievous, playful smile tugged at his lips, one he failed to suppress.

“Oh, modesty doesn’t suit you.” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “But it does make for entertaining company.”

He chuckled softly. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And may I say, it’s a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance, without the hindrance of torrential rain.”

“Agreed. Though the mud did add a certain charm to our initial meeting.” A playful glint touched her eyes.

“A charm I’d rather not repeat,” he replied.

There was a moment of comfortable silence before Bridget gestured to the flowers. “I should return to these arrangements.”

“Of course.” He gave her a nod. “Perhaps we’ll have the opportunity to speak again during the weekend.”

“Perhaps,” she echoed with a slight smile.

He gave a sufficient bow and left the room.

Bridget turned back to the flowers, her hands moving with deliberate precision.He’s just a man, she told herself,just a persistent, infuriatingly composed man with an annoyingly impeccable memory of their last encounter.”

He had steadied her with ease, without assumption, without condescension. That memory lingered, uninvited, unwelcome, yet not entirely unpleasant.

She tugged at a stem harder than necessary. No, not thinking about him at all. This is ridiculous,” she murmured.

“May I assist you, my lady?”

Bridget raised her head quickly and stared at one of the footmen watching her. She drew a steadying breath.

“Thank you, but no. The hydrangeas seem to have a mind of their own today. But I am undaunted. They will bend to my will.”

The young man nodded and left while she turned back to the flowers, which were more than compliant to her demands.

“There you are.” Marjory swept into the room. She glanced around and then turned to Bridget. “I just spoke to the footman. Drummond mentioned that the hydrangeas presented a problem, something about not cooperating.” She glanced at the vases on the table. “You must be a hard taskmaster. You have them standing up and saluting.” Marjory’s eyes twinkled.

“I didn’t know you had spies about.” Bridget focused on primping the flowers, although she was finished with them.

Marjory looked stunned but quickly recovered. “There are times when I do not know when you are teasing.” She shook her head. “Now, let’s see,” she continued. “We need to put down the place cards. I thought to seat Lady Worthington to the right of Lord Blackwood. They always have such interesting conversations.” Marjory picked up the place cards and began to arrange them.

Bridget didn’t comment. She continued to tug at the lavender, her mind obviously elsewhere.

Marjory paused and stared at her guest for a moment or two. “We could seat Lady Worthington next to the giraffe,” she mused. “I hear he’s quite the conversationalist.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, that sounds fine.”

“Perfect, and when the elephant arrives with the dessert, we can have him parade through the garden before serving.”

“Of course, that sounds lovely,” Bridget murmured, still lost in thought.

Marjory raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “And perhaps we should invite Mark’s pet tiger to lead the first dance?”

“If you like.” Bridget’s mind remained fixated elsewhere.

Marjory chuckled to herself. “You’re not listening to me, are you, Bridget?”

Bridget blinked, finally pulling her attention back to the present. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

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