Page 25 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
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The pleasure gardens at Bath had beautiful landscapes and romantic arrangements of features and pathways that provided many a route for Freya and Eric to wander along, enjoying nature as well as the music that was played by a resident orchestra.
It turned out that carrying food for the picnic was unnecessary seeing as there were various hotels ready to serve them breakfast.
“We should take to cure,” Freya suggested, “It might help with your-” she shut up as she realized what she was about to say, biting her lip nervously. “I — I mean…”
Eric smirked cruelly, “Do not fear pointing it out. I know very well that my scar is hideous. Unfortunately, no amount of taking to the waters would make it cease to exist I’m afraid. You shall just have to get used to it.”
“I did not mean —” Freya tried to say, distressed that he would think that of her, but he stopped her words by raising his hand.
“It is fine. Let us walk and enjoy the garden and not speak of that again.”
Freya blew out a breath but said nothing more. Just twirled her umbrella as they walked in tense silence. She kept flicking glances at Eric, who was walking stiffly at her side, trying to think of something she could say to apologize or mitigate her faux pas.
She truly had not meant anything about his face. It was just that…the scar was slightly raised and looked painful. She’d seen him flinch, or grimace, once or twice and had just assumed that the scar pained him. She’d heard that the waters might help with painful wounds. That was her only intention.
But she could see that Eric was taking it as some sort of slight to his appearance – which was not the case at all. She did not want to apologize because that would confirm to him that she’d meant his face was hideous, but she did not want him to continue to think badly of her.
She looked behind her where Diana was walking, accompanied by a footman carrying the picnic basket. They were present courtesy of Silver who had miraculously stayed behind.
Freya pointed to a slight clearing, surrounded by all sorts of multicolored flowers. “That seems like a lovely place to settle down and eat.” She declared though they’d hardly been walking for a long time.
Diana curtsied, “Yes, my Lady. We shall set up the picnic while you continue to enjoy the gardens.”
Eric huffed, flicking her an amused glance as Freya deflated. “Er yes, of course. You do that.”
The footman and Diana detoured towards the garden as Freya and Eric kept walking forward. She looked around, determined to immerse herself in the beauty around her and enjoy herself if nothing else. She moved her head from side to side, humming a little to the music as they turned right onto yet another path. Once she stopped pouting, she realized that it truly was quite beautiful around her. Whoever had set these gardens up really knew what they were about.
“What is it with you and gardens? Why do you love them so much?”
Eric’s question took her by surprise.
“Oh, well…it’s something my mother and I used to share. When she died, I felt obligated to continue with it. I also find that it gives me tremendous peace to be among the flowers.”
He grinned, “Is it because they don’t talk back when you speak to them?”
“Ha ha.” Freya sent him a glare, “No, as a matter of fact, that’s not it. And you are wrong to think that plants do not communicate with us – even if they don’t use words.”
He quirked his brow, looking surprised and curious. “Is that so? Do tell me what they tell you.”
“Well, for one thing, certain flowers emit fragrance in order to attract bees and other insects so they can move their pollen to other flowers for fertilization.”
Eric stopped walking to stare at her in shock, “How do you know this?”
“Well, I read books on botany.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Quite the bluestocking, aren’t you?”
Freya tossed him a defiant look, “As a matter of fact, I am.”
He smiled. “Good. There is nothing worse than a vacuous wife.”
She turned, narrowing her eyes at him, “I do not read in order to provide you with entertainment.”
