Page 62 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal

Her brother had become smitten with a beautiful lady of noble birth who possessed exceedingly limited resources. In true Percy fashion, he hadn’t been content with simply marrying the woman, which was what most noblemen would have done. Instead, he’d befriended her, assigned ridiculous dowries upon her and her sisters, then wooed her into loving him back before he proposed.

Part of the aforementioned wooing was buying her an entire estate’s worth of flowers. A normal man would have sent them to her house in cut-flower installments, but Percy wasn’t normal.

He’d bought her thousands of flower bulbs so she could recreate the effect of her late mother’s garden. A dreadfully romantic gesture, except that the two lovebirds had escaped on a months-long honeymoon directly after their wedding, leaving the bulbs to molder in this shed.

Candace sighed. If she were honest, at the moment she felt much like these forgotten bulbs. She could pretend that her current dejection was about Shelbourne or her self-imposed exile from society, but the truth was that she’d been feeling excellent as of late.

Until she saw the smile that James and Vera shared on the picnic.

Candace pressed her lips together in irritation. She’d come out here to distract herself from such thoughts. James and Vera were friends. Friends smiled at one another. Besides, Candace shouldn’t care, even if the smile had been of the more-than-friendship variety. She shook her head and refocused on the flowers.

Candace didn’t doubt for a moment that her brother would replace the forgotten bulbs once he returned from his honeymoon and realized they were no longer useable. His devotion—and nearly limitless pocketbook—would allow no less.

But that did nothing for these poor flowers. Candace translated the latin names—hyacinth, gladiolus, daffodil, tulip, crocus.

Closing her eyes, she could see the estate transformed—the inner garden cleaned and planted with a riot of tulips and hyacinths, the outer gardens planted with drifts of daffodils, crocus, and lily of the valley, all left to naturalize…

She shook her head. It would take at least a week to plant them all, even with a full staff. And someone would have to design the layout. What a project that would be.

Candace smiled and whirled for the house.

CHAPTER 20- JAMES

From the Quentin Daily-

Debtor’s house arrest! A local lord is rumored to be in serious debt to a local gambling hall! The gambling den has posted large men at the front and back of the lord’s house to catch him before he can flee the country. One wonders if money will be enough to pacify the brutes! “He’s afraid for his life!” Elizabeth Ellison, a local resident, claims. “The men are huge and carry clubs!”

James dismounted from his horse in the gravel drive and frowned up at Devon Manor. Truth be told, he didn’t have an excellent reason for visiting that afternoon, save that he was bored and went for a ride and found his horse pointed in this direction.

Still, he comforted himself with the knowledge that company was more repetitive in the country than in the city. Therefore, the ladies of the house were far less likely to wonder at his appearance three times in one week in the countryside of Devon than they would have in London. And there were fewer people paying attention to who was visiting whom and how often, for which he was grateful.

His polished boots had only just begun crunching against the pea gravel toward the front door—his horse handed off to an obliging groom—when Candace herself rounded the corner. She wore a dark wool dress and an apron that covered her front from chin to hem. A pair of thick workman’s gloves were clutched in one hand.

Despite her odd ensemble, she looked beautiful as always. Strands of her red hair escaped her chignon to frame her lovely face and drape over her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed—with exertion or excitement, he couldn’t tell.

“Good afternoon,” he called.

She started and whirled—apparently she’d been so intent on her goal of entering the house that she hadn’t seen him.

She smiled wide, her green eyes sparkling. “James, what brings you here?”

It was a question whose meaning depended completely on tone. Hers was warm and inviting, so James took no offense and answered readily.

“A simple visit to see what amusements the ladies of the house are engaged in. I’d hoped to borrow some of your diversions, as I’ve grown weary of my own.”

“You’ve only been in the countryside a few weeks. Do you tire of it so soon? Are we in danger of you turning back for the city with all due haste?”

“Not at all,” he rushed to assure her. “The country suits me perfectly at the moment. It’s only that the day was too lovely to be spent indoors.”

“True, though the fact mars my following invitation—to accompany me inside. I was going to hunt down some tea; would you like to join me?”

“Always,” he answered quickly, then inwardly cursed himself for his blunt admission.

Candace didn’t seem to notice; she’d already turned for the door.

“What have you been doing this fine afternoon?” He asked the question in part because he wanted to know and in part to divert her attention before she could consider his previous answer more fully.

“I believe I’ve found a project.”