Page 95 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal

“He will be. He just got frightened.”

“He doesn’t like storms.”

As if on cue, lightning cracked across the sky and a fresh torrent of hailstones pinged down through the skylight. Arthur winced.

Candace put her arm around him once more. Conscious of his masculine pride, she added, “I’m very cold. Arthur, will you please help me stay warm?”

He nodded, and James shot her a grateful smile.

It shouldn’t do such things to her stomach, that smile. Especially since he gave it so freely, without any idea of her reaction. Especially since he’d as much as told her he wanted to introduce his friends to Vera to get their opinion.

In the following minutes, while Candace sat with Arthur on one side and James on the other, she wished she never had to leave. She wished they could stay just like they were forever.

The storm passed and the trip back to the house was uneventful, but the next morning, Candace woke with a throbbing in her temples.

“Ugh,” she moaned past the rough abrasion in her throat.

Candace tried to sit up as Hortense was pulling back the curtains, but quickly gave the motion up in favor of flopping back against her pillows in a dramatic heap.

“My lady?” Hortense hurried to her side. “Are you well?”

“No.”

Candace wasn’t sure she’d ever heard her voice sound as low and rough as it did. She would have made a wonderful stand-in for a man in a play—if the character had smoked ten cigars a day for the last thirty years.

“Oh dear.” Hortense held the back of her hand to Candace’s forehead.

Her maid’s skin felt lovely and cool against her flushed skin, and Candace turned her face into the pillow. “Keep your distance lest I get you ill.”

“Nonsense. You’re ill because you spent half of yesterday shivering in the rain. Very kind of you to think of me, though,” she added in a softer tone.

“If you get sick, who’ll care for me?”

Hortense chuckled. “You always get a bit sharp-tongued when you’re feeling poorly.”

“I need tea.”

“I daresay you need something stronger than tea.” Hortense bustled toward the door.

“You’re right,” Candace croaked after her. “Bring the gin!”

CHAPTER 27- JAMES

From Where the Birds Sing: A Gardening Primer⁠—

While there are many factors that affect the success of plants within a garden, perhaps none is equally important as sun exposure. While one is in the planning stages, it is imperative to observe and record the sunlight available in the spot being planted, at different hours of the day. If one plants a sun-loving plant in the shade, one can hardly expect it to thrive.

When Candace didn’t arrive for the lunch they’d agreed upon the day before, James paced before the clock in his study restlessly. It wasn’t like her to forget. She was very punctual, especially when it came to social engagements. At two o’clock, when the time for even a late luncheon had slid away, he ordered his gelding saddled and made the journey to Devon Manor.

Though the storm of the previous day had passed, puddles lingered and even small ruts had been transformed into sucking bogs. Though anxiety bid him put heels to his horse, James wisely let it carefully pick its way through the muddiest parts. Perhaps Candace had decided not to risk her coach and horses to the soppy, deplorable state of the roads.

He handed off his horse, knocked the mud from his boots, and was shown into the now-familiar great sitting room of Devon Manor. Candace was nowhere to be seen; instead, the baroness and Vera shared a comfortable sofa and a tea tray.

“James,” Vera said, smiling brightly. “Would you like to join us? Come have a warm cup—you must be chilled after such a journey.”

He crossed the room, greeted the ladies, and readily accepted the offered tea and a place on the facing sofa.

“Begging your pardon, but where is Candace? She was supposed to come for luncheon today.”