confusion filling his eyes.
She leaned toward him. “The idea that I will have a choice of husband—that there will be more than one man who will ask for my hand in marriage.”
Sir Anthony chuckled. “Tosh. The guests who will be here for the next month have been carefully selected as those who will make suitable husbands.” He now leaned toward Kate, their foreheads almost touching. “Though I will admit that I hope you are not the only young woman of my relation who will be finding a husband amongst them.” His gaze slanted toward Edith, still aloof from the rest of the family, glowering at her book.
Kate bit the inside of her lower lip to keep from speaking. Could it be possible that Miss Edith Buchanan, heiress to a large dowry no doubt, was having trouble securing a husband too? Perhaps the affliction ran in the family.
C HAPTER F IVE
A ndrew smiled every time he passed the replanted boxwood. Seeing Katharine Dearing leaning over it, defending the eyesore, had given him a glimpse at a much different woman from the strangely flirtatious one he’d spent hours with on the train from Liverpool.
And every time he set his spade to the earth to dig the bush up again, the memory of the indignation in her clear blue eyes stopped him.
He hefted the tool over his shoulder, gave the trunk of the shrub a nudge with the toe of his boot, then headed back toward the gardener’s lodge, breaking into a jog when the drizzle turned into a steady rain. He propped the shovel against the wall before entering.
The head gardener greeted him with a smile. “The boxwood still stands?”
Andrew nodded and stepped over to the large fireplace to warm himself. “The boxwood still stands.”
“I can send one of the lads to do it for you, if you like.”
Perhaps that would be a better solution. Andrew sighed. “No, ’tis something I need to do myself.” He pulled off his heavy leather gloves and scrubbed his hands over his cold cheeks. “The new hothouse is completed. I’ve just come from inspecting it, and it is holding steady heat, even in this rain. I will spend the afternoon tagging the plants to be moved, then tomorrow we can work on moving the ornamental plants from the kitchen greenhouses and many from the conservatory into it. Sir Anthony is much desirous of having the plants throughout the house changed for new ones before his guests arrive. And daily fresh floral arrangements as well.”
“The additional space in the new hothouse will be quite the boon with the extra work a house party generates. And now we can increase production from the kitchen hothouses—a blessing, that, with all the guests to feed.” At the tall worktable in the middle of the room, Tom unrolled Andrew’s initial sketch of his plan for the organization of the plantings in each of the hothouses, including the one yet to be built, which would utilize Joseph Paxton’s sectional glass-and-iron construction innovation.
The three foremen came in from their duties of supervising the undergardeners in the existing greenhouses and joined Andrew and Tom at the table.
All had taken the time Andrew had been in London to familiarize themselves with the new design. Roland shyly presented a piece of paper on which he’d sketched a few suggested improvements. Of the four men he worked with most closely here, Andrew had always believed Roland—youngest of the foremen—to be possessed of the most creative and progressive mind. And while Tom had been reluctant to include the three in the planning stages of the project, none of the young men gave Andrew a moment’s regret for giving them the same opportunity Mr. Paxton had given him.
“Well done, Roland. This will increase the stability in the iron structure and reduce the time spent in construction. If we place an additional door here . . .” Andrew paused when he realized he no longer had the attention of the four gardeners. He looked over his shoulder toward the door, straightened, and
She leaned toward him. “The idea that I will have a choice of husband—that there will be more than one man who will ask for my hand in marriage.”
Sir Anthony chuckled. “Tosh. The guests who will be here for the next month have been carefully selected as those who will make suitable husbands.” He now leaned toward Kate, their foreheads almost touching. “Though I will admit that I hope you are not the only young woman of my relation who will be finding a husband amongst them.” His gaze slanted toward Edith, still aloof from the rest of the family, glowering at her book.
Kate bit the inside of her lower lip to keep from speaking. Could it be possible that Miss Edith Buchanan, heiress to a large dowry no doubt, was having trouble securing a husband too? Perhaps the affliction ran in the family.
C HAPTER F IVE
A ndrew smiled every time he passed the replanted boxwood. Seeing Katharine Dearing leaning over it, defending the eyesore, had given him a glimpse at a much different woman from the strangely flirtatious one he’d spent hours with on the train from Liverpool.
And every time he set his spade to the earth to dig the bush up again, the memory of the indignation in her clear blue eyes stopped him.
He hefted the tool over his shoulder, gave the trunk of the shrub a nudge with the toe of his boot, then headed back toward the gardener’s lodge, breaking into a jog when the drizzle turned into a steady rain. He propped the shovel against the wall before entering.
The head gardener greeted him with a smile. “The boxwood still stands?”
Andrew nodded and stepped over to the large fireplace to warm himself. “The boxwood still stands.”
“I can send one of the lads to do it for you, if you like.”
Perhaps that would be a better solution. Andrew sighed. “No, ’tis something I need to do myself.” He pulled off his heavy leather gloves and scrubbed his hands over his cold cheeks. “The new hothouse is completed. I’ve just come from inspecting it, and it is holding steady heat, even in this rain. I will spend the afternoon tagging the plants to be moved, then tomorrow we can work on moving the ornamental plants from the kitchen greenhouses and many from the conservatory into it. Sir Anthony is much desirous of having the plants throughout the house changed for new ones before his guests arrive. And daily fresh floral arrangements as well.”
“The additional space in the new hothouse will be quite the boon with the extra work a house party generates. And now we can increase production from the kitchen hothouses—a blessing, that, with all the guests to feed.” At the tall worktable in the middle of the room, Tom unrolled Andrew’s initial sketch of his plan for the organization of the plantings in each of the hothouses, including the one yet to be built, which would utilize Joseph Paxton’s sectional glass-and-iron construction innovation.
The three foremen came in from their duties of supervising the undergardeners in the existing greenhouses and joined Andrew and Tom at the table.
All had taken the time Andrew had been in London to familiarize themselves with the new design. Roland shyly presented a piece of paper on which he’d sketched a few suggested improvements. Of the four men he worked with most closely here, Andrew had always believed Roland—youngest of the foremen—to be possessed of the most creative and progressive mind. And while Tom had been reluctant to include the three in the planning stages of the project, none of the young men gave Andrew a moment’s regret for giving them the same opportunity Mr. Paxton had given him.
“Well done, Roland. This will increase the stability in the iron structure and reduce the time spent in construction. If we place an additional door here . . .” Andrew paused when he realized he no longer had the attention of the four gardeners. He looked over his shoulder toward the door, straightened, and
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