Page 94 of Harpy of the Ton
She leaned forward, her sapphire eyes fixed on him. “Why can’t ladies be trusted?”
“Because they look down on those of us who must earn our living. A lady will change her mind on a whim with no thought for the effect on others. And when she finds something not to her satisfaction, she’ll go out of her way to destroy it. Not in the name of justice, but out of spite.”
She shrank back. “I’ve never heard you speak with such hatred, Lawrence. I take it you’ve suffered at the hands of a lady?”
He nodded.
“Did you seek retribution for her sins?”
“I did.”
“And did you find it?”
“No.” He sighed. “I only learned that in seeking retribution, I became the very thing I intended to punish.”
“WasIthere?”
He took her hand. The once-smooth skin of her fingers was covered in callouses—the trophies of physical labor.
“It matters not,” he said. “What matters is that I do right by you now.”
“If you can complete your designs in a manner that satisfies a lady and her whims.”
He nodded. “Aye—if I can.”
“Imight have an understanding of a lady’s whims,” she said.
His gut twisted in apprehension. “Y-you?”
“I’m no lady, but I can appreciate beauty of form. Perhaps I could help with your designs.”
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you with that, love,” he said. “You’ve enough with your chores.”
“I was able to embroider roses on Sophie’s gown as if I’ve been doing it all my life.”
“Embroidery’s not the same as designing a garden, Bella.”
“Perhaps not in the execution,” she said, “but to create a pleasing image requires the same eye for color and form—particularly if a lady is to appreciate it.”
“No, Bella, it’s out of the question.”
“I want to help.”
“I know,” he said, patting her hand. “You’ve good intentions, but they’d come to naught. I must solve the problem myself.”
“Why?”
“It’smydream to be a garden designer,” he said. “Nobody else’s.”
Her eyes flashed, and for a moment, as she glanced about the kitchen, he feared she’d take a fry pan to him. But she merely withdrew her hand.
“I’ll leave you to fulfill your dream,” she said. “Excuse me while I take a turn in the garden. Don’t bother to clear the table—I’ll resume my chores when I return.”
She rose and exited the kitchen.
Chapter Thirty
“Mama, look, Papa’scleared the supper things!”
