Chapter Forty-Five
Frances was in heaven. Nothing on earth could be this beautiful.
Roses, in every color imaginable, surrounded her.
Not just from the ground, but on trellises and in archways, so even the sky was covered by them.
And this was only the roses section. She’d passed the hydrangeas and azaleas, daffodils and sunflowers…
The other sections were arranged by color, but here, at the center, it was all roses.
“You’ll catch flies,” Nathaniel commented.
She startled at his voice. “Pardon?”
“Your mouth has been open in awe for the past hour. My mother used to tell me I’d catch flies.”
“Forgive me, I’ve never seen such gardens. It’s magnificent.”
“It is,” he agreed, with a shrug-like smile when she caught him looking at her instead of the flowers.
“You needn’t stay out here with me. Lady Rochefort said there were refreshments inside.”
“I don’t mind.”
“What enraptured you for hours? When you were a child,” Frances asked, mostly to distract herself.
“Buildings,” he admitted. “Tall ones, old ones, insides, outsides. Have you noticed the ceilings in cathedrals?”
“Yet you prefer the country, that has far less buildings.”
“True, but the estate is where I get to see the things I’ve drawn come to life. I used to use scraps of lumber to make tiny models of things.”
“But now?” she asked. It hadn’t occurred to her until that very moment that he might have drawn up the greenhouse plans himself.
For her.
“I’m still fascinated by architecture. And the projects are bigger, but I don’t get to participate as much in the construction,” he said.
She smiled at the joy on his face and wanted to thank him for using his gift for her, but he turned away and studied a leaf in the opposite direction.
“I should have taken her up on her offer sooner.”
“You were busy,” Nathaniel assured her. “Lady Rochefort understands.”
“She looked so furious when she barged into the Lord Williams’ study. I was half-convinced her cane would turn into a sword.”
“It was never directed at you. And, as mentioned, Lady Rochefort never does anything she doesn’t want to.”
“If only everyone was so lucky.”
“Frances, I—”
“Lady Lark, how would you like a private tour? I’ve located my gardener, and he has promised to only give you enough of his secrets that your garden will be the second loveliest in Mayfair.” Lady Rochefort emerged from the pink rosebushes.
“That’s very kind, my lady, but our gardens in town are mostly vegetables and a few of my favorite flowers. Nothing compared to this.”
“Nonsense, I’ve heard all about your greenhouse in the country. It won’t be long until you have one here as well. If it works, I may have you both design one for me.”
“Oh, no, but your gardens are already perfect,” Frances argued, noting that the old woman was aware Nathaniel designed the plans. She wondered what else this woman knew of young Nathaniel, before loss made him overly cautious.
“I knew I liked you.” Lady Rochefort laughed before walking off, knowing they would follow behind her.
“It must have taken years, if not decades to build something like this,” Frances commented.
“My husband wasn’t quite so indulgent as yours, so it was very slow going at first,” she agreed.
“Lord Rochefort enjoyed bringing home presents for me, flowers and treats, dresses and ribbons, but he didn’t understand why I would want to wait for flowers to grow when he could shower me with the most beautiful blooms whenever I wanted. ”
“I once heard that if you like a flower and think it pretty, you will pick it so you can look at and own it, but if you love it, you’d rather nurture and grow it.”
“Given that when you pick a flower it dies, you would think more people would have realized that,” Lady Rochefort agreed.
“And yet…” Nathaniel motioned to the vases of roses on her table.
“Love can be a very complicated thing.” Lady Rochefort sighed. “Even with the best of intentions, we hurt the ones we love most of all. Or deprive ourselves of a happiness we could have if we just welcomed it, instead of resisting.”
Frances wasn’t sure what that had to do with picking roses, but Nathaniel seemed to, so he went to talk to his grandparents while she followed their hostess.
“I’m so glad to see you’ve recovered. You gave us quite the scare.”
“My apologies, I—”
“I know you didn’t mean to, child. I wasn’t fishing for an apology; I was letting you know people were beside themselves with worry over you.”
“But you don’t want an apology.”
“To be honest, I’d much prefer gossip.”
“I’m afraid you chose the wrong person for—”
“It’s hard when you think you don’t deserve it.”
“I don’t—”
“It’s not a reproach, my dear. When I first married, I told everyone I was Lady Rochefort, with pride, but inside I felt like an imposter. Waiting for them to see I was a fraud.”
“I don’t think you understand—”
“I’ve met my fair share of blushing brides, Lady Lark, ones who married for a multitude of reasons, with all kinds of marital problems they either told everyone about or kept well-hidden.
Sometimes there was nothing to be done but grin and bear it until nature took its course, but in a situation like this, with the way that boy looks at you—”
“He’s merely concerned after my illness. He’ll stop once we’re indoors, by the fire,” Frances assured her.
“He’ll never stop,” she argued. “I’ve known Nathaniel his entire life, but I haven’t seen him like this since…in a very long time.”
“We should—”
“I can keep secrets, dear, I just like knowing them.”
“I have no secrets.”
“We all do. Especially the ones we keep from ourselves. Nathaniel’s is that he is not nearly as wise as he thinks he is. You need to decide what you want from this marriage and ask for it. Don’t let him dictate the terms because he says so.”
“He is my husband.”
“Yes, and there are many women I would advise against doing anything to upset their lord and master. But Nathaniel puts the world on his shoulders and needs to be reminded that there are people he can rely on, and no matter how much you love someone and think you know what’s best for them, you need to let them make their own decisions and choose which consequence they would rather live with. ”
“That’s very kind, but…” Frances tried to find a way, without lying, to move away from this conversation, but Lady Rochefort wasn’t having it.
“I raised my siblings. Was the parent to my father by the time I was thirteen. I was used to running households and making decisions for everyone else, including Lord Rochefort. I knew what the gossips would say. I knew what kind of life he’d lead if he married his sister’s governess, and I couldn’t allow it.
He deserved so much better. Until he calmly explained that he could live with the gossip and the stares, with the rejections and the hardships that came from being married to a woman others wrongfully believed was beneath him.
He could not, however, live without me. It wasn’t fair for me to choose that heartbreak for him. ”
“I’m not as brave as you, Lady Rochefort.”
“Neither was my late husband. He just knew what he wanted and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Or at least not a no said in fear. It was quite inconvenient. Ruined all my life plans.”
“How promising.”
“I have more regrets than I’d like, given my philosophy of not having any, but even as the world proved me right, telling us, again and again, what a terrible idea our marriage was, I never regretted building a life with the man I loved. A family.”
The word stung, but Frances stopped herself from placing her hands protectively on her stomach in response.
“I don’t want to waste my life running after and trying to convince a man who doesn’t want me,” she admitted, wiping the single tear she couldn’t stop from falling.
“I agree. You should never settle for someone who doesn’t realize your value, who doesn’t treat you well. Who doesn’t love you as everyone deserves to be loved. But that man does. He just needs someone to knock some sense into him, and I’m afraid I wouldn’t do it gently.”