Page 22 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
“Funny,” Harcourt muttered. “My valet suggested I wear it. I do not know that I am convinced of its usefulness. I was about to go out into the garden. The gardener has been complaining that there is a tree that needs to be downed.”
“Then I shall join you. I have done most of my work for the day. And now I can watch you.”
“So kind.” Harcourt rolled his eyes and turned on his heel toward the kitchens. They cut through the dining room into a slender hallway that led to a stone patio on the southern side of the home. Harcourt pointed out an oak at the edge of the garden.
“I cannot see anything unusual about it from here,” Nash said.
Harcourt sighed. “That is why I was going to walk to it, Nash.”
“You always were so clever.”
Harcourt looked around at Nash as they made their way along the path that led to the open lawn beyond the flower beds. “You look oddly pleased with yourself.”
“I had a word with mother. I do not expect it to halt her progress, but it might slow her down.” He hooked his thumbs into the collar of his jacket.
“What did you tell her that would slow her down so?”
“I told her to look for a woman like herself,” Nash said with a grin.
Harcourt sputtered out a laugh. “You truly wish for a woman like your mother?”
“I wish for a woman with a strong mind of her own. My mother definitely has that in spades. Do you not think?”
“True, she is a singular sort of woman.”
“A very singular sort,” Nash agreed. “Hopefully so singular that she will not be able to find another woman like herself this year.”
There was a snort from Harcourt. “Now who is underestimating your mother?”
“True enough. She will probably have found me three lovely young, headstrong women by next week,” Nash admitted.
They came to a stop near the oak. Harcourt pushed out his lips in thought as he stared up at the branches of the old gnarled tree. “I had not realised how old this tree was.”
“Looks like it has a bit of a blight on it too,” Nash said, pointing to some leaves that showed tell-tale speckles. “Shame, but it is an older tree near the end of its life.”
Harcourt leaned over and patted the tree’s trunk. “Better to take the one out than to lose all the trees.”
“Have you men ready for the job?” Nash looked at the height of the old tree and calculated how much wood would come from it.
Harcourt nodded slowly. “Yes, my gardener will bring in some. Well, at least there will be no shortage of firewood.”
Nash smiled and slapped Harcourt on the shoulder. “Ever the optimist. Speaking of optimism, how goes your brooding over your chaperone status?”
“My optimism does not extend to matters of women at the moment.” Harcourt put his hands on his hips. “I would rather help them chop this tree down than petition one more invitation.”
Nash chuckled. “You should enlist my mother. She is well-versed in hounding the elite of society.”
“Do not tempt me, Good Sir!” The two of them looked at each other and laughed. “She would probably try to wed you to my sister. Lord knows she is stubborn enough to qualify.”
Nash shook his head, although the mention of Lady Callum made Nash ponder. Harcourt was fitful to get her married off quickly, but the lady wanted to choose her own groom. An idea started to take shape in his mind.
“Did your brain break at the very idea of my sister?” Harcourt asked the question with a smile on his lips.
Nash grinned. “I was thinking more of my mother’s schemes. You are right. She truly will not be defeated by one obstacle in her path.”
“We are speaking of your mother now, are we not?” Harcourt asked as he turned toward the house.
Nash slipped his hands into his pockets. “Yes, do try to keep up, Harcourt.”
