Read Online An Extraordinary Flirtation by Maggie MacKeever - Free Book Online Page B

This area, at least, had been tended, most likely by the cook. Potatoes, Jerusalem artichokes, French beans, and spinach and carrots grew in neat rows, the beds bordered by tidy ranks of herbs. Cara knelt down and ran her fingers over slender stalks of barge and lavender, hyssop and rosemary and chervil, parsley and rosemary and sage. Marjoram, which when made into an oil warmed joints that were stiff. Lovage, when fried with a little hog’s lard, encouraged the breaking of a boil. Chamomile, “the doctor,” good for almost every ailment known to man.
    Almost any ailment. Cara spied some lurking fennel, and gave it a good yank. Daisy stopped digging in the garden to plop down beside her mistress and give her cheek a companionable slurp.
    Couldshe be jealous of Zoe? Cara plunged her fingers into the rich earth. Once it had been she who admirers flocked around like bees to the honey pot. Now any flocking done would be around Norwood’s fortune. His fortune, and all that lovely property. Flocking there would be, Cara knew, for she was hardly a naif. She slapped her fist on the dirt, startling Daisy. “Damn, damn, damn!”
    Only then did Cara become aware that she had an audience, because Widdle cleared his throat. The butler didn’t know what to make of the lady kneeling, cursing, in the garden dirt. Not that he knew what to make of any of this household, except that he didn’t think highly of the quality of their silver plate.
    Energized by the sight of the butler, Daisy leapt up and knocked him down. “Squire Anderley come to see you, Lady Norwood,” Widdle announced from his bed among the herbs. “He saidyou wouldn’t mind if I brought him into the gardens, but I thought I should ask you first.”
    Cara scrambled hastily to her feet and discouraged Daisy from bathing Widdle’s face. Then she pulled the butler upright, and brushed him free of dirt. “It’s all right, Widdle. Squire Anderley and I are old friends.” Widdle looked uncertain. “You may leave us alone together, you know.”
    Widdle was uncertain. The lady didn’t look happy to see her visitor, and he disliked the expression in the gentleman’s eye. However, it wasn’t Widdle’s place to argue with his employers. Not that the lady was his employer, precisely, but he didn’t think he should argue with her either. Struggling with his indecision, Widdle walked back down the path toward the house.
    Cara studied her visitor, who appeared travel-weary and cross. “Sit!” he snapped. Daisy sank down, panting, at his feet. Cara assumed he had been talking only to the dog. “Business has brought you to town?”
    “Unfinished business.” Paul moved toward her. “I’ve brought your mare with me. I assumed you would wish to ride.”
    “How kind of you.” How presumptuous. Cara took a prudent step backward. “Mortimer told you where we’d gone?”
    Mortimer had not, despite threats, bribes, and all other manner of persuasion. “I am perfectly capable of adding two and two together and arriving at four.” Paul was further irritated to see that Cara’s hands were again grimed and her hair awry. She looked so impossibly lovely that he wanted to shake or kiss her. Since he could do neither, he looked around the garden instead.
    If Norwood House was a prime example of the noble art of picturesque gardening run amok, this place was a horticulturist’s version of the nether regions. “Your gardener would succumb to an apoplexy on the spot.”
    Barrow would be pleased, thought Cara, that Paul had followed her to town. She was uncertain how she felt about the matter herself. “I’ll grant that Beau’s gardens are a somewhat overwhelming task.”
    Daisy reappeared, with her stick. Absently Paul took the thing and flung it. He doubted that the condition of her brother’s gardens, deplorable as they were, had brought Cara here. He doubted also that he would accomplish anything by shaking—or kissing—her.
    Rather, he might accomplish something, but