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Enchanted by a Lady's Talent: A Historical Regency Romance Book

Page 29

by Abigail Agar


  Miss Potter appeared alarmed and confused by his sudden need for the gardener.

  “Honestly, Your Grace, I cannot say. I have not seen him at all this morning. Actually I have not seen him for the past few days, now that I think of it,” she said.

  “Please, do find him for me. I shall continue looking, but he was not outside. Perhaps he is in his room?” Albion asked.

  “I am perfectly happy to check for you, Your Grace. Give me but a moment,” she said.

  Albion waited and then heard a screeching sound. He rushed to see what it was that Miss Potter had been upset by, but she came rushing out to him instead.

  “That man! Oh!” she said in anger.

  “What is it? What has happened?” Albion asked.

  “He is lost in a drunken stupor. What a useless creature,” she said, shaking her head.

  Albion fumed. He paid this man very well to keep the gardens in perfect shape. And he had spent the past few days locked away in his room with a bottle? Albion would not stand for that!

  Within the hour, Mr. Hillsborough had been packed up and sent from the estate. Under his lack of care, Albion’s roses were dying and he had no one to tell him why. What was most important to Albion was figuring this out and ensuring that he was able to have the garden honour his family in the way he wished.

  “What am I to do now? He was considered one of the best in all of England,” Albion said, collapsing in his study as Miss Potter brought him tea.

  “There has to be someone better out there, Your Grace. Someone who will not be a slave to his vices,” she said.

  “Oh, dear. It appears I missed something quite devastating,” Theodore said, rushing into the study.

  “I shall leave the two of you,” Miss Potter said, shuffling away.

  Theodore Connelly had worked at the estate for nearly ten years, and the past two as Albion’s private butler. He was also Albion’s dearest friend, the only companion with whom he could share what was on his mind during the difficult days.

  “Theodore, I am so glad that you have returned,” he said.

  “Of course, of course. Now, what is it? What has happened? I saw a couple of the maids clearing out some bedding, all in a huff,” he said.

  “It is Mr. Hillsborough. He has proven to be a drunkard and he allowed the garden to grow…diseased or something. He has been stripped of his duties,” Albion said.

  Theodore’s brows drew together in thought.

  “I see. But who is going to care for the gardens now?” he asked.

  “That is precisely my dilemma,” Albion said.

  “And what do you mean when you say that they are diseased? What, precisely, has happened to them?” he asked.

  “It would appear that they are covered in some sort of black spot. Not the whole garden, mind you, but a portion of my rose bushes,” Albion said.

  “Well, that cannot be good at all,” Theodore said.

  “No, it is not. You know how important the gardens are to me. And my own knowledge is enough to care gently for the garden, but certainly not enough to keep it alive. I am limited in my skill with plants, even if I do adore them and wish to have them providing such beauty,” Albion said.

  “Certainly, it is important that they do not die away,” Theodore said, as though he was going to continue speaking.

  “I need someone who can rescue the roses before it is too late and we have to begin anew. I know no other who is so well-connected in society as you and I trust that you shall be able to find me the right man for the job. I need someone who is able to be here often, to take care of everything,” he said.

  “Indeed, and I think—” Theodore began.

  “If you are able to find someone who comes highly recommended and is able to start right away, all the better. This all began during my four days inside, in the midst of Mr. Hillsborough’s neglect. We cannot delay another day if we do not have to,” Albion continued on.

  “Certainly, and I know—” Theodore began again.

  “I do not know what I would do if we had to start all over again,” Albion said in despair, wondering if he had failed in creating the stunning memorial to his family.

  “Ahem?” Theodore signalled, clearing his throat as politely as possible.

  Albion paused and looked up at Theodore, patiently.

  “Oh, forgive me,” he said. “I was interrupting you. I know that I am in a panic and have not allowed you to speak.”

  “I understand. I know how important this is to you. But, if you will, I do have an idea,” Theodore said.

  “Yes, yes, of course. You must forgive me for being so distracted. What is your idea?” Albion asked.

  “I understand that you are seeking a gentleman for this task, but would you be opposed to a young lady instead?” Theodore asked.

  Albion cocked his head to the side. He had not considered hiring a young woman for his garden. But he had female maids in the home, so why should he not? After all, a young woman might be equally skilled in the task for which he needed her.

  It was clear to Albion that Theodore had someone specific in mind. Was this a young woman Theodore cared for? And why had he not mentioned her before?

  “I certainly do not mind,” he finally said. “Is this a young lady well known to you?”

  “Indeed, she is. In fact, she is a relation of mine. Her father is my mother’s cousin,” he said.

  “Interesting. And she is aware of the ways of plants?” Albion asked.

  “She is the best. People say that she has nearly mythical abilities. Her father is a florist, but she is the one who truly brings the plants to life,” Theodore said.

  “Is that so?” Albion asked.

  “Indeed, it is. And I would guess that she would find herself utterly astonished by your garden. Her own family cannot afford such extravagance, but to work in a place like this? I assure you that she would be most impressed,” Theodore said.

  “Very well, very well. You have convinced me. If she comes at such a high recommendation from you, I can hardly deny her. Do you believe that she would be willing to start at once?” Albion asked.

  “I can hardly see why not. She is always looking for an opportunity to be outside of the house,” Theodore said with a laugh.

  “Ah, so she is not overly fond of being indoors with her family?” Albion asked, wondering if this young woman would prove unruly.

  “No, it is not that. Simply, she needs to have her hands in the dirt and among the plants. Nothing else makes her so happy as that,” Theodore said.

  “How delightful. Well, in that case, please welcome her here, most heartily. I look forward to meeting this cousin of yours and seeing whether or not she can save my garden,” Albion said.

  The truth was that he had no desire for anyone else to come into his home. Albion did not do well with people. Even the maids, he often wished to be rid of. Theodore was the only person left with whom he was truly comfortable.

  This young woman would need to be set apart from the rest of the staff, left entirely to her own devices. Albion had no intention of speaking with her directly, but Theodore would take care of that. It was his duty and it worked out nicely that this young florist was his relation.

  But what mattered most would be for Albion’s garden to be restored. Whatever the cost of this young woman’s services, he would pay it. He had to.

  Albion recognised the strangeness of his affinity for the garden. No, it would not bring back his family, but he couldn’t help feeling as though it kept them close to him, somehow. When he really, truly needed to know that he was not alone, he could wander among the flowers and feel his family again.

  His father had died when he was young, but his mother had raised him along with his brothers to be a good man and to be a leader. It was simply a shame that he was the only one who survived. And as the only survivor, the responsibilities upon his shoulders could seem daunting at times.

  Perhaps that was why he chose to withdraw. Maybe it was easier this wa
y; to be alone and to pretend that he could go amongst the flowers and be with his family all over again. But Albion could not stop himself. It was too tempting to isolate with nothing other than his hopes.

  Regardless of what he wanted, there would soon be a new life among them. And if Theodore’s recommendation was anything to go off—which Albion believed it was—she was something of an enigma.

  Yes, it was a misfortune that he had lost his old gardener, but perhaps this was how it was always supposed to be. Maybe this young woman could truly bring the beautiful flowers into a flourishing splendour.

  At least, that was what Albion was hoping for. And he realised then that he had something he had not had in a very long time. That very feeling of having something to hope for.

  Chapter 2

  It would do no good to prune off every last leaf.

  Rosamund well knew that she needed to stay busy. But did that really mean she had to take apart each plant, bit by bit?

  Surely, her father didn’t mean that.

  But the florist shop’s business was slow. There were hardly any customers and Rosamund was desperate for something to do. She needed a project. After setting down her shears, she decided to look through some of the seeds that were set aside.

  She was eager to try growing some of these. A few of them were imports from other regions. Even some from the Far East.

  She wondered if she would manage to make them grow. Would they survive in such a different climate? She had seen many that managed to, but also many that did not.

  Regardless, she was eager to find out.

  Just as Rosamund was preparing the soil for the seeds in a small crate, the door of the shop opened. She turned to greet the customer, but saw that it was none other than her distant cousin, Theodore.

  “Theo! My goodness, I did not expect to see you. It has been months. Are you well? How is your family? Your work?” she asked, her brown eyes lighting up with excitement.

  “Very well, Rosie, thank you. Yes, it has been quite some time indeed, since we saw one another. But I am glad to see you now,” he said.

  She was happy to see him as well. He was such a nice man and they had always got along very well. Then again, they did not see one another all that often so this time apart was hardly unusual. He worked for a rather sequestered and somewhat demanding nobleman.

  Nevertheless, she was glad for a visit from Theodore now. Curious as to why he had come, she set down the seeds and relaxed.

  “Well, what can I do for you? Are you in need of seeds? I have heard that your employer has rather legendary gardens,” she said.

  “Well, it is not about seeds, but it is regarding my employer,” Theodore began.

  “I see. Do you need to speak with my father?” she asked.

  “No, actually. It is you who I need to speak with. Do you mind?” he asked.

  Surprised, but not wishing to show it, Rosamund simply nodded and took a seat on a stool beside the many leaf clippings on the table. She wished that she was better dressed or that she didn’t always seem quite so young and naive when she was around Theodore.

  Despite her self-assurance as a gardener, she was well aware that her cousin worked for one of the wealthiest dukes in England whereas she was extremely poor.

  “Please, Theo. What is it you wish to speak about?” she asked.

  “It is about that garden you mentioned, actually. Lord Brightling has run into a bit of a difficult situation in which his gardener grew neglectful and…well, he was a foolish drunkard and it was actually quite a shame that he was allowed to remain at the estate as long as he did,” Theodore said.

  “Well, that is disappointing,” Rosamund acknowledged.

  “Indeed. It was Mr. Hillsborough,” Theodore told her.

  “Truly? But he is said to be one of the best gardeners there is. I must confess that I am surprised,” she said.

  “Yes, it was all very unfortunate. But, anyway, there is more to it,” Theodore said.

  Rosamund remained silent and waited, still uncertain what all of this meant and why Theodore had come to her to handle it.

  “The roses are the Duke’s greatest pride. They were planted in honour of his mother. And now, they have grown…sick? I don’t know what term you use, but they look awful. Anyway, Lord Brightling loves the roses and his garden is his greatest pride. He spends the vast majority of his time there,” Theodore said.

  “And?” she asked.

  “And he asked me to find someone to handle it. Of course, I immediately thought of you,” Theodore said, finally arriving at his point.

  This was intriguing. Rosamund had never imagined an opportunity to work in the garden of a wealthy man like this. But then again, she did have quite a reputation.

  It always amused her that people thought so highly of her abilities with plants. It wasn’t so hard. All she had to do was tend to them and make them grow. They told her what they needed. If they were dying, it was clear. If they were drowning, she could see that they were not drinking the water. Couldn’t everyone figure these things out?

  Apparently not. Certainly not some fancy duke, and certainly not anyone else who came into the shop seeking her family’s assistance.

  “Well, that is very interesting, Theo. I confess that I am surprised,” she said.

  Indeed, it was interesting. She would need to speak with her father to ensure that he did not mind. But Rosamund thought that he would be happy about it. After all, it was money.

  Money from a duke would be extremely beneficial for their business. Otherwise, she did not know what they would do. The business was falling to pieces and this could be exactly what they needed.

  “Well, we need to speak with my father and get his approval,” she said.

  “So you wish to do it?” Theodore asked, not sounding exactly surprised.

  “Of course I do. You know that I love to spend my days in a garden. This shop is…” at this, Rosamund simply mouthed the words instead of saying them aloud, “so boring!”

  Theodore chuckled.

  “But, as I said, we need to confirm with my father that he approves of this,” she said.

  Just then, as if he had heard them speaking about him, her father came out into the shop. He had been outside, transferring some of the starts into larger pots.

  “What am I approving of? Oh! Theodore. How nice to see you,” he greeted.

  “And you, Uncle. Well, I hope you do not mind, but I have come to sweep your daughter away in the hopes that she might assist my employer. Although he will eventually need a full-time gardener, at the moment he needs someone who can help his roses recover from some black spot they have,” Theodore said.

  “Ugh, black spot. It is dreadful,” Rosamund said.

  “The Duke of Somerfield wishes for my daughter to rescue his infamous garden?” her father asked.

  “Indeed, Uncle,” Theodore said.

  She could see the look in her father’s eyes. He was obviously thrilled. It was clear that this was precisely what he would have wanted. He now had an opportunity to have an income as a result of Rosamund’s reputation.

  “Most definitely. Tell the duke that she would be delighted,” he said.

 

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