She kissed him again before he could finish the thought.
This time was even better. The obstruction of leather gloves, a wooden barricade, and ten layers of clothing didn’t matter. Olive had kissedhim.
He was not stealing kisses. She was giving them eagerly. If it weren’t for this cursed fence between them, Eli would—
She broke away from him, panting. “I can’t kiss you all day. I have work to do. Besides, if Papa glances out of the window and catches us, he will gloat unbearably.”
Oh, good Lord, herfather. Eli had forgotten about everyone except Olive.
He stepped backward until she was safely out of reach. “Duke is eyeing me rather jealously as well. I can take a hint. Enjoy your horses as you meant to. I can entertain myself in the conservatory for days.”
“Perhaps limit it to hours,” she said. “Though I suspect youareexactly what the conservatory needs, you must eat. Shall I see you for dinner?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
There were only five days left in their arrangement. As enticing as the castle glasshouse was, there were plenty of plants in England, but only one Olive.
Eli went to his guest chamber to pack his leather satchel full of notebooks and pencils, then set out on the pavement leading up to Marlowe Castle. The Harper residence was one of the farthest from the castle, but a mile walk in brisk weather would do him good.
The conservatory had been the most perfect gift Olive could give him.
Very well, it wasn’t hers to give, nor was the glasshouse Eli’s to keep, but while he was stuck up here in the middle of nowhere, perhaps he wasn’t so far away from his research after all.
Ironically, it might even be easier. Eli’s usual physic garden was in London, but so was his father, who denounced botany and other related fields as irrelevant nonsense, unbefitting for the son of a lord. The marquess had long ago forbidden Eli from dabbling in “embarrassing scholarly pursuits,” resulting in Eli sneaking about like a footpad so his father wouldn’t catch him with a notebook in his hand.
The quantity of tourists increased as he approached the castle. One group fell into step beside him, smiling in recognition.
“Mr. Weston, is it?” It was the gentleman whom Olive had bested in a horse race. “Miss Harper’s friend?”
Friendwas... not quite the right word.
“Her guest,” Eli hedged. “Temporarily.”
“Well, guest, allow me to introduce my wife, my uncle, my brother, my sister, my brother-in-law, my sister-in-law, my niece and nephew—”
Only because Eli spent his life memorizing details was he able to keep up with the names, faces, and how all of the Skeffingtons and le Ducs were related. He surprised the lot by reciting their names and relative positions back to them, in the same order they’d been presented.
“Very good!” They exchanged impressed expressions. “We’re heading to the pond for ice-skating. Are you up for an adventure?”
“I appreciate the invitation, but I’m off to...” He was in Cressmouth, Eli reminded himself. He could say the words aloud. He was safe here. “...the conservatory.”
They nodded as if looking at plants was a perfectly reasonable Yuletide alternative to ice-skating. “We’re having dinner afterwards here at the castle, if you’d like to join us.”
“Iwouldlike to,” he said, and found that it was true. “But I’ve already promised the meal to Olive.”
“We’re trundling hoops tomorrow,” said the nephew. “Bring Miss Harper. I bet I could beat her at hoops.”
“I bet you can’t,” murmured his sister.
“I will convey the invitation and challenge,” Eli promised and watched, bemused, as the large family teased and laughed their way down a walking path that presumably led to a frozen pond.
Cressmouth was full of surprises.
Nothing could surpass London in sheer number of apothecaries and opportunities for study, but this picturesque village waseasyto navigate in all of the ways London was difficult.
Making friends here was as simple as bumping into someone on the street. There were no recriminations, no impossible-to-meet expectations, just good cheer and sunny dispositions everywhere he—
“What thedevildo you think you’re about?”
