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Oh, what plants used to grow there? Her curiosity was piqued, and for the first time in four days, she felt a ping of happiness, a true joy her heart could sing. Could she possibly be allowed to use this?
She approached the building and laid her hand on the glass door, which was covered in a layer of dirt so thick she could barely see what was inside. Would the duke really mind if she brought it to order and restored it? Could she use it for botanical experiments? Oh, what if she could get her hands on some exotic plants that were difficult to grow in this climate…like tomatoes, lemons, oranges, figs, and perhaps even a coffee arabica?
As Patience reached out to open the door of the glasshouse, she hesitated. A thick bush obscured part of the view, revealing shards of broken glass. Frowning, she noticed the glass to the right of the door was shattered. Dirty glass shards littered the ground, some hidden by the bush. It appeared as if the break had originated from within. How? What happened? Yet another mystery to add to this house and her new husband.
“Stop,” said a cold, velvety voice behind her, and a wave of dread washed over her.
She turned. Among the overgrown bushes and trees, stood the Duke of Rath. He was breathtakingly, heartbreakingly gorgeous, a dark lord among dead vegetation and rampant weeds.
“Um…” Her fingers clenched at the skirt of her dress. She suddenly felt like she’d stepped into someone’s private space without permission.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
It was the first thing he’d ever asked her, she realized distantly. And it sounded like an accusation. She felt like she needed to justify herself.
“Am I not supposed to be here?” she asked, fumbling with her dress.
His eyes darted to the glasshouse behind her, and a haunted expression flitted over his face. “No.”
“Why not?” she asked as she took a few tentative steps away from the glasshouse and towards him. “This is just a garden, and one that needs attention.”
His jaw twitched as he followed her every step. “Because I said so.”
She stopped a few steps from him. He appeared quite as furious as he had back in the ballroom. But right now, he wasn’t scary. He looked…lost.
He was the master of her and her husband, and as her mama taught her, she was his to command. But she couldn’t accept the premise of this explanation.
Because I said so? No. She had questions.
“What is your reason for a ‘no’?” she asked.
His face straightened in surprise. “My reason?”
“Because while ‘no,’ without a doubt, does mean ‘no,’ the reasoning ‘because I said so’ is not well-grounded. Or defensible. Or very adult, to be frank.”
Slowly, he stalked towards her, a storm brewing in his eyes. His upper lip curved upward, as he was about to bare his teeth.
Her stomach dropped in real fear.
Take it back, take it back, take it back!
Distantly, she registered herself backing away from him. He was so much larger and taller than her—she had to crane her neck to look at him, for God’s sake! And those muscles, Lord, he could snap her in half if he wished to!
“Are you calling me a child?” he rumbled.
“No,” she said as she kept backing up down the gravel path, her hands searching for something big and sturdy to put between herself and the furious, advancing duke. “I merely require more explanation than ‘because I said so.’”
Oh, no, she’d made it worse. She could actually see his white teeth as his lips thinned and curled inwards.
“Do you think you’re so smart, arguing with me, asking imprudent questions? Your queries are dangerous. You are the one behaving like a child, sweet girl. You just stepped into an unfamiliar world. There will be no one to pour your soul out to here. No one to let you cry on their bosom. You just married a duke. You need to learn to compose yourself, think about what you say and ask. Safe is the last thing you should feel.”
Every accusation was a blast straight to her core. Naive. Young. Desperately trying to please. All true. How did he see her through like that? It must be because he was so much older, so much more experienced. Never in her life had she been near such a confident, powerful, intelligent man.
She didn’t know what to do. Should she shut up? Keep talking? Reason with him? He must see his behavior had no logical ground.
“But isn’t it safe when there are dozens of footmen on the property?” The words blurted out of her like hail as she kept backing up and he kept slowly advancing on her, his fists clenched. “The concern for my safety being a woman alone outside can with all likelihood be overlooked. Unless there are wild bears living somewhere in the overgrowth, which I highly doubt since bears do not like the company of people, and there aren’t many left on the British Isles. Therefore, I’d argue that the reasoning about wild animals is also void. So I’m perfectly safe here. Are you perhaps concerned I’ll use the garden to run away—that I will hide among the brambles and scramble over the wall? I’m very interested in staying, as the contract with my father stipulates that you will pay off all of my family’s debts and save my papa from debtor’s prison and my family from being on the streets. So I won’t run away. And this garden does need lots of work…which I’m happy to provide. I’d love to, in fact. I can see a stunning chestnut tree here. And a lovely ash tree there. And just pruning some branches, removing these dry bushes, and putting in some fresh boxwood shrubs could bring in plenty of light and new life.”
She turned to the glasshouse and sighed. “And this…” she said with her voice ringing in awe. “Oh heavens…please allow me to restore this to its original glory.”
