Page 8 of Harpy of the Ton
Yes. There was the garden. The unkempt mess she’d seen from the carriage on the driveway when they first arrived. Ilverton Manor was suffocating—a mausoleum filled with rotting wood and musty furnishings, not to mention the vermin that scuttled beneath the floorboards and behind the wainscoting. Whereas the garden she could mold into shape, and it would become her place of respite from the world, from life—and fromhim.
Lost in her thoughts, she wandered along the hallway until she reached the main doors, where a footman stood in attendance. He stiffened as she approached, then met her gaze.
Don’t show me pity—I could bear anything but your pity.
“Well?” she demanded. “Aren’t you going to open them?”
He blinked, smoothing his features into the bland expression of a servant, the same expression that her maid wore when Arabella admonished her—the mask all servants donned in the company of a master, or mistress, they despised.
He bowed and opened the door. Sunlight illuminated the hallway, picking up dust motes that swirled in the air, floating aimlessly and freely.
Sweet heaven—am I comparing my life unfavorably to that of a dust mote?
Tilting her chin, she swept past the footman and stepped out into the summer air, relishing the warmth of the sun on her skin. Doubtless Aunt Kathleen would admonish her for venturing outside without a parasol, but Arabella’s spirits lifted at the notion of committing an act of rebellion, no matter how small.
It wasn’t as if she were committing a transgression. She’d insisted on the work to the garden. It was only right she review its progress from time to time.
Much of the overgrown part of the garden had already been cleared, revealing the landscaping. As she’d suspected, the garden consisted of two tiers—the outer edge forming the upper tier, with a square, sunken section in the center, accessed by a single flight of steps. Several more shrubs had been planted on the upper tier, forming a symmetrical pattern.
She caught sight of the gardener carrying a pile of branches and leaves through an archway at the far end, beyond which smoke was rising. Near the steps, he’d driven his shovel into the ground. She approached it and ran her fingertips over the handle, the wood polished smooth through years of use. Beside the shovel was a pile of wooden-handled tools, a thick notebook—open at a page depicting a sketch of a garden—a hessian bag, and a man’s shirt and jacket, neatly folded. As she glanced toward the archway, she heard the crackle of a fire. The smoke thickened, punctuated by the occasional wisp of burning leaves, caught by the rising air before they disintegrated into ash.
The gardener reappeared, wiping his hands on his breeches and retracing his steps. He looked up and caught sight of Arabella. Rather than showing deference, he stared at her, boldly, his gaze traveling over her body, and the ghost of a smile played on his lips.
“How dare you stare at me!” she cried.
Amusement danced in his eyes. He lowered his gaze to her neckline, and the tip of his tongue flicked out and caressed his lower lip.
“Do you not speak?” she demanded.
“I do.”
“Yet you continue to stare.”
“A man can be forgiven for lookin’ when such a sight is before him.”
Arabella tempered the tiny pulse of excitement.
“You’ve no right to speak to me!”
His grin broadened, showing even white teeth. “You’re the one who asked me to speak.”
“No, I didn’t—I only asked whether you did speak,” she said. “And I’ll thank you to address me properly.”
He raked his gaze over her body again, and she fought to temper the pulse that had thickened in her center.
“I’ll address you properly, ma’am—but I doubt you’ll thank me for it.”
“It’s Lady Arabella to you.”
“Then,Lady Arabella to you—you can’t blame a man for looking.”
“You impertinent knave!”
He let out a low chuckle, which sounded almost like a growl.Heavens—even his laugh sent a ripple of sensation through her body!
“I’m only teasin’ you, ma’am—sorry,Lady Arabella. Have you come to see the garden? The duke tells me it’s for you.”
“It’s his wedding gift to me.”
