Page 64 of Not his Marchioness
“I had not known that such modern conveniences were making their way into these neighborhoods,” Margot remarked, examining the installation.
“They are not, generally speaking. It is one of the reasons the current owner finds himself in such dire straits. He invested rather too heavily in modern conveniences. However, it could serve your purposes well.”
The uppermost floor contained another spacious room and a second washroom. Charlotte was uncertain what use they might make of this chamber—perhaps quarters for a headmistress—but the building would certainly suffice.
“It is quite grand,” she observed. “What is the price of the building?”
He gave a figure that was more than reasonable, and she nodded thoughtfully.
“Might we examine the garden?”
“Certainly,” he replied.
He had maintained a most professional and courteous demeanor throughout the inspection of the properties, conducting himself rather like a land agent displaying his wares.
She followed him outside and stopped abruptly.
“Good heavens!” she exclaimed.
“It is a veritable wilderness out here.”
The garden was entirely overgrown. If a path had ever existed, it could not be discerned. Grass reached her knees, the flowers long dead from the winter cold. A large bare tree stood at the center, and the remnants of a bird-feeding apparatus lay on the ground beside it.
“Indeed, it is a jungle,” Margot agreed. “If you will excuse me, I’m going back to the carriage. I cannot trek through this wilderness in my kitten heels.”
She departed, leaving them alone.
Charlotte moved forward, the grass tickling her calves as it found its way beneath the hem of her skirts.
“I do not believe that is wise,” Rhys cautioned. “The garden needs to be cleared first before it is safe to examine.”
“I shall not venture far. I merely want to determine whether there is a path leading anywhere of consequence. Moreover, I believe there was a swing over yonder.”
She continued onward, paying no heed to his protestations.
“Pray, how large are the grounds?” she called, having inspected the swing.
“There should be a fence marking the boundary,” he called back, remaining on the steps.
She turned left, making her way through the thick grass, when suddenly her left foot gave way and plunged into what she had mistaken for solid ground.
Not merely damp earth, but a pond. She cried out in alarm as icy water splashed up all about her. The temperature was already bitter, and the water was near freezing. The cold seized her foot, and the droplets that had struck her exposed skin felt like shards of ice. She could feel the chill even through her gloves.
She turned, attempting to extract herself, but her foot kept slipping.
“Charlotte!” Rhys raced toward her.
Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, he had wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her out of the water, his muscles tensing beneath her hands as he carried her to safety.
“Are you well?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied breathlessly. “I’m merely startled, that is all. I… I had no idea there was a pond there. I should have listened to your counsel.”
The alarm on his countenance was replaced by a smile. “Are you acknowledging that I was correct about something for once?”
“Please do not make this into some momentous occasion. I thought I might drown if I’d slipped in further.”
“But you did not. Indeed, you are scarcely even wet. I have a travel rug in the carriage. I shall wrap you up and take you home directly.”
