Chapter Twenty-One
Frances woke early but took her time going downstairs for breakfast. There were portraits on the walls throughout the estate, but here in the family wing, there were also framed drawings and art pieces, many of which reflected their skill level.
Theodore had some talent, and she liked Rebecca’s bright colors, but Nathaniel’s stick figures and six-legged dogs simply made her smile.
By the time she got to the breakfast room, Nathaniel was walking back from the stables, and she could see through the window Grace and Rebecca setting off on horses at least twice their size.
“That’s an early ride,” she ventured, mostly to make conversation, but she gave an involuntary shudder as the girls galloped away.
“I enjoy starting my mornings with a ride. Our grounds here are infinitely better than Hyde Park. And much less populated.”
“Which means that if you fell, there’d be no one to find you.” Frances didn’t mean to scare or judge him, but what if something happened?
“I won’t fall,” Nathaniel said with the confidence of a man for whom everything came easy. “And if I did, there are always employees or tenants wandering around. An hour, at most, before someone found me.”
Frances shuddered again.
“You really dislike horses that much?”
“I don’t understand how anyone wouldn’t.”
“That’s because you don’t go riding.”
“I’ve been in a carriage.”
“Not the same.”
“Agree to disagree.”
“Of course.” He sighed, and she worried she’d offended him. “I have a surprise for you.”
“What did you do?”
Her face dropped as she tried to read his.
“That sounded more like an accusation than excitement.”
“My father always…”
Mama often received little gifts whenever Papa did something he wasn’t supposed to. Gambling them into debt, withholding the good carriage, getting too close to the governess…
“I would very much hope to be nothing at all like your father,” Nathaniel said gently, taking a step closer and extending his hand.
“Didn’t you want to eat?”
“Later. I want to show you something.”
Nathaniel considered a blindfold, then wondered why he was so excited about this.
He was an excellent gift-giver, if he did say so himself, often giving people exactly what they wanted—or needed.
Perhaps it was because there was no occasion, or because it was the first real gift he’d thought out for Frances.
Maybe because he didn’t yet know what her reaction would be.
“We’re not going to the stables, are we?” she asked, the fear clear in her voice.
“I would have worn armor.”
She looked confused for a moment, as she was the one with the fear, before she caught on that he meant to protect himself from her. First her jaw dropped, then she laughed.
“That’s not very kind,” she scolded him.
“But it is accurate.”
“I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t try.”
She smiled and bit her bottom lip, totally oblivious to how such a thing could affect a man, before he led her through the grounds.
The Lark Estate grounds were lovingly maintained by gardeners who’d worked with his mother to lay out the gardens.
Not that he didn’t want Frances to touch them, but if Lizzie was any reference, a new bride didn’t want to be handed down relics of her mother-in-law; she wanted to leave her own mark.
This was his way of letting Frances know she wasn’t just occupying the space until someone else arrived—this was all hers.
“Are you building new stables?” Frances asked as they approached the pile of materials he’d gathered.
“Is there something wrong with the ones we have?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“The horses seem happy.”
“Then I’m confused. Unless this will be a tiny house at the end of the property, where I’ll—”
“Don’t even finish that thought,” Nathaniel warned. “First, this is the estate proper. The end of the property would require a horse, or at the very least, proper walking attire. I have never been able to walk the entire thing in a day.”
“It’s that large?”
“It is, but mostly, if you’re not on horseback, the tenants assume you are meandering without purpose, so they are eager to give you one.”
“Are you one of those lords who knows—”
“I know every farm, the owner’s name, and if applicable, the eldest son,” he finished. “My father brought me with him when he would visit, so by the time I was earl, I had to learn paperwork, but knew everything else about my inheritance, and the people on it.”
“Do all your siblings—”
“We all know the people. Many of our balls were country affairs, and everyone gets invited around the holidays, but no, Teddy and James don’t know the farms, or farming.
Either of them would take care of the estate because they care about the people, but they were never raised to understand the business parts.
James is more interested in music, and Teddy always wanted to be out on the sea. ”
“Not even once you decided they would be your heirs?”
“I thought I might someday teach their sons, perhaps run the tedious parts while someone else bore the title.”
“The society papers made it seem like you spurned the title and all that came with it.”
“I thought you didn’t read those papers, Miss—Lady Lark?” He struggled to keep the teasing note in his voice after sobering himself with her title.
“My mother and sisters did. They loved guessing who was who, then Mama would bring us to places where great things happened to normal people. She loved scandals.”
“Sarah’s mother used to provide mine with all the gossip. It was often more accurate than the papers, and less scandalous. More human, she’d call it. I can’t count the times Mama would set off with a basket of sweets or brandy, for one of the subjects of such gossip, depending on the situation.”
“I wish I could have met her,” Frances said quietly.
“She would have liked you,” Nathaniel said, against his better judgment, but it was the truth. His mother would have loved Frances. “You would think because of your shared love of gardening, but it’s the kindness. I don’t think either of you have a mean bone in your body.”
Frances looked like she wanted to argue with that assessment, but instead, she said, “You’re an excellent deflector.”
Nathaniel laughed. “You’re not the first to accuse me of such.
James says I get carried away on purpose.
” He sighed. “I hate what it means. Both to society and simply because my father had to die for me to inherit the title. But actually being the Earl of Lark and taking care of my people, finding ways to make their lives easier, to save on production costs and give them more money and time for their families, I always loved that part.”
“Oh.” Frances let out a breath. He could see her clenching her jaw to keep her composure. “It was the getting married and having children that revolted you.”
He froze. “I can’t,” he warned, pleading for her to understand. How could he explain that he was broken beyond repair when he couldn’t bring himself to talk about what broke him?
“My apologies, that was harsh.”
“Yet deserved.”
She paused. “Is this some kind of agricultural tool that has yet to be assembled?”
He was grateful to her for bringing it back to what he’d hoped would be a pleasant surprise.
“Ultimately, it is up to you. You may draw up new plans and order different materials, but I conferred with your cook, and this should be what is needed to build the largest greenhouse I’ve ever seen.”
“For what?”
“For you,” Nathaniel said simply. “It is colder here, so flowers and plants, none of them would survive the winters, but this is where we will spend them, assuming you don’t prefer the city, and—”
He stopped when Frances jumped forward and wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing her face into his chest so she could hear how fast his heart was beating. He hadn’t even been aware of it until she’d gotten that close. Until he could smell the lavender in her hair.
“Thank you.” The sound was muffled through the fabric of his clothes.
“I told you, Frances, I will do everything in my power to see you happy. As I do for Lizzie and Becca and Grace,” he added quickly.
He could tell by the look on her face that comparing her to his siblings had been the wrong thing to do. She turned away from him and pretended to be looking at the flowers he’d already procured, but thankfully, the blooms were irresistible.
“Are these—”
“You mentioned a person couldn’t be sad in their presence,” he explained of the yellow roses.
“And I had Teddy bring some tulips as well, because apparently, they come back every year. But I can return them; it’s your garden and your greenhouse.
The only thing I ask is that you keep the sunflowers for my mother. They were her favorite.”
“I love them. I love all of it. I love the roses and the tulips. I love—”
Her joy and excitement were overwhelming, but he couldn’t get over how incredulous she was anytime he treated her as someone worth doing nice things for.
“If I had you list everything you love, how long until you named yourself?” he asked, shaking his head as she went on. He’d said it under his breath without thinking, but she heard.
She stopped herself and retreated, going back into that shell he’d assumed was shyness.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I was only teasing.”
“Of course.” She gave him a smile, but it clearly bothered her. “If you’ll excuse me, I must make a list of all the things we’ll need for our greenhouse.”