Page 21 of Ravishing Among the Roses
“And now he’s tried to destroy your favourite rose because you did something at a ball?” Gabby didn’t really understand that. The Duke had called Edmund’s behaviour inappropriate.
“It’s not my favourite rose. I don’t have favourites. It’s merely a very challenging one which makes it interesting to me.”
“And the ball?”
“I’m not sure. Bennington hinted that he knew about George. My brother, His Grace, likes to call me names when things don’t go his way, or if people hear the truth about him. He twists my actions around so that it’s me who has behaved inappropriately or disgracefully.” Edmund emphasised those two words.
“I can’t image you being inappropriate.”
Edmund shrugged. “I’m not. But he thinks it’s inappropriate to tell someone the truth of what he’s done. I’ve seen him do this so many times. He will already believe that George left him first, and so the entire problem is George’s fault, that he had no optionto tell his staff that George wasn’t welcome back, and anyway if someone suggests that he’s not the wonderful leader of the family like he tells people he is, then George will get the blame. Not him, never him. His version, where he had no choice to protect his estate from George’s apparently terrible behaviour, is the only one that should be told.”
Gabby wanted to hug Edmund and hold him forever. “You know that isn’t true.”
“It is true. He will do anything to ensure that none of this is his fault. If everyone had just taken his advice, then none of this would have happened. If we’d all obeyed him, he wouldn’t have to act like this. We forced him to do this. And no, Gabriel, I don’t believe that, but he believes it and he has all the power, and so I’m left standing in the garden with a rose bush that has been pruned too much, left hoping that it will survive because Tom and John are well trained and they’ve done the best they can in a difficult situation. They can’t disobey His Grace without losing their jobs, and they have families who rely on them too.”
“He’s the dark winter.”
“And you can’t change the sky.” Edmund’s shoulders slumped and there was only one thing Gabby could do.
“Come and see Mama. She’ll know what to do.” His mother could provide comfort where Gabby couldn’t. He’d seen a lot of poor behaviour in his old job, although not as much as the women sustained. A molly club was a careful place because the law threatened everyone. The women who worked as courtesans and on the streets had no such protection or care, and they saw more depravity than he had. If the world was fair, it would be the bad customers who suffered under the law, not those seeking a job for survival.
“There’s nothing anyone can do but wait.” Edmund walked to a small shed in the corner of the garden and donned a thick pairof globes. He began picking up the branches and stacking them next to the shed.
“Should I help?”
“No. I don’t have another pair of gloves and I don’t want to see you hurt. It won’t take long to move these out of harm’s way.”
And so Gabby stood there, watching a Duke’s brother work as a gardener, and he slowly smiled as he realised how Edmund had gained his muscles. It wasn’t heavy work, moving a few branches, but Edmund moved with an efficiency that spoke of years of practice. He wanted to go out to see all his roses at the estate he mentioned, to see Edmund working where he belonged, and then he gasped. He couldn’t afford to travel. He couldn’t be with Edmund if he worked with his roses and Gabby worked at The King’s Book Club. Now his heart was going to be broken.
Chapter 12
Edmund’s worst fears came to pass. His brother’s hand hadn’t responded to treatment. The honey, cabbage, and willow bark poultice made no difference, and neither did cauterising the blisters. The pustules were spreading up his arm.
“Thwaitepiddle,” His Grace barked at him. His usual charm had been replaced with a foul temper and with no one else watching, His Grace had no reason for charm.
“Yes?”
“I must write to Paynestone. His daughter will be a great match for you.” Even as he was dying, Edmund’s brother was still trying to control his life. Edmund nodded, trying not to sigh.
“And what about George? Would you like to see him?”
His Grace shrugged. “He knows my door is always open.”
Edmund knew better than to respond to that nonsense. The last he knew, or George knew, His Grace had instructed his staff to prevent George’s presence on the estates. “I will get your secretary.”
As he walked down the hallway, he supposed he should tell George that his father was dying and that the ban was over, but really all he wanted to do was go to The King’s Book Club and see Gabriel. He’d spent every night there in the past fortnight watching him perform, and then every night together in bed. It’d been the best fortnight in Edmund’s life. They’d even practiced his lecture on breeding roses, and they’d found two other scientists to speak on principles of agricultural linebreeding to fix desirable characteristics. Edmund was ready for tomorrow night where he would talk to an audience, although he still couldn’t shake the notion that no one wanted to hear him rambling on about his roses.
“Thwaitepiddle.” The butler addressed him.
“Yes?”
“There is a delivery for you. A small box from a printing house.”
Edmund smiled, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. “Excellent.” He’d been waiting for this order, and so he followed the butler and took the package, opening it right there. With his brother sick, he wasn’t as careful as he might be.
“Dance cards, my lord?”
Edmund swallowed. How foolish of him to do this in front of his brother’s staff. “In a fashion, yes. If you must inform His Grace of this, tell him they are...”
