Page 58 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal

“I’m so glad you like them.” Candace slid her fingers down the edge of a navy walking dress. The skirts were lined in a deep burgundy that would show only in flashes when the wearer walked.

“I love them. It’s almost a shame there’s not more company around to see them.”

Candace pursed her lips, her mind flitting from London society to the scandal sheets she expected in the mail. She sent Hortense down to the village nearly every day, but her maid returned with a solemn shaking of her head every time when Candace asked after them.

It was a wonder that Vera’s dresses had arrived before the copies of the Quentin Daily did, but then, that was the nature of the post. They were probably sitting beneath a stack of letters on some innkeeper’s counter and would arrive all together in a week or so.

“I said it’s almost a shame,” Vera said, misreading her friend’s silence. “I’m quite happy in our seclusion, trust me.”

Candace pretended she wasn’t thinking of James when she said, “Indeed. I’m quite content.”

CHAPTER 18- JAMES

From the Quentin Daily⁠—

A strange occurrence in North London—many residents of a neighborhood suddenly giving birth to twins! Reports say that the mothers all ate at the same local tavern. One wonders what special ingredient is in the steak pie!

The following day, James looked up from his ledgers to find his son standing in the open doorway of his study.

“Father, I’m hungry.” Arthur said, Seamus at his side.

James smiled and stood. “No doubt Seamus is, too.”

“He’s always hungry.”

James ruffled his son’s hair. “I could say the same of you. Come on, then. Let’s pester Mrs. Taylor for some lunch. Bring Seamus. We’ll ask for a picnic to eat in the garden. It’s too nice of a day to remain indoors.”

“Really?” Arthur grinned up at him.

His butler opened the front door just as James and Arthur headed down the stairs. Two colorful hats entered, and the ladies glanced up, their faces coming into view.

“Candace, Vera,” James greeted. “Lovely to see you.”

He didn’t speak his other thoughts aloud—that though they were the only ladies who’d ever visited him here, he still hadn’t realized it was them at first glance. Instead of one looking fashionable and the other garish, today both ladies were dressed impeccably.

Gone were the mustards, the sullen orange tones, the drab browns and tans—Vera wore a day dress in a fetching peach color that highlighted her great quantity of ash-brown hair. Gathered white lace at her wrists and throat drew the eye to the clear luminosity of her skin.

James had always thought Vera pretty enough, but looking at her was much like trying to discern if something was of value in a second-hand shop—one could never quite be certain of what one was looking at in the dim light amongst all the other rubbish, and squinting at it only made it worse. It was enough to make a man put the thing back on the shelf and go home completely frustrated.

This dress was the difference between wiping one’s thumb against the grime and hoping the thing beneath was quality, versus having the item presented brand new, on its own, in the window of a shop.

Vera’s beauty was so clear, it made him blink. Well, obviously, his mind seemed to say. You’ve seen her enough times to make a judgement on her appearance. You already knew she was pleasing to the eye.

“Forgive me if it’s bold to say, but you both look particularly fetching today,” he added once he’d gained the ground floor. “You too, Hortense.”

Candace nodded in acknowledgement. Her eyes slid toward Vera, whose cheeks appeared to burn with the unexpected weight of a compliment lobbed in her direction.

“Father, I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about ladies’ appearance?” Arthur asked, scrunching his nose.

“Quite right. Too personal. Forgive me.” He nodded at them, mirth turning up the corners of his mouth. He said, “You too, Hortense.”

The maid arched her eyebrow—in amusement or censure, he couldn’t tell.

Arthur pushed forward and said, “We were just about to have lunch. A picnic in the gardens. Would you like to join us?”

“Or we can eat at a table indoors, if you’d prefer,” James added, hastily.

“Not at all,” Candace said. “It’s a lovely day. A picnic sounds like just the thing.”