“I have a horticulturist on staff, and pay for a pollination service with a man who keeps bees. The rest of my staff keep the fires alight and the fountains flowing.”
“How fortunate for Miss Notley to have you for an uncle.”
An immediate wave of icy guilt swept over Leo, and he frowned against it. No, his niece was not fortunate. Nothing about this sodding circumstance was fortunate. He was spending time in her company because Miss Smith had burst into their lives and demanded it, but the girl was better off without him.
Miss Smith’s brow puckered. “Have I said something to…?”
Leo cleared his throat with a grunt. “Indeed not.” Lord knew why he felt the need to comfort the maddening woman. “But Elizabeth’s future will no doubt be difficult with me as her reclusive uncle. I have no desire to make it worse.”
Her gaze thoughtful, she nodded. “I understand. Purchasing entrée into the House of Lords is enough of a challenge, but garnering society’s approval?” She waved a hand through the air with a sympathetic roll of her eyes.
The woman was entirely wrong in her assumption, but Leo had no desire to correct her. Let her believe that he was attempting to buy his way into thehaut tonwith the purchase of a title; it was far more palatable than the truth.
Elizabeth darted toward them and gripped Miss Smith’s hand. “I found the blueberries!” Her face was wreathed in smiles and soiled by wet spots of red, blue, and purple.
“Splendid!” Miss Smith returned Lizzy’s grin. She withdrew a handkerchief from the sleeve of her uniform and bent to wipe at Lizzy’s cheeks before straightening and gesturing at the trees behind her. “Can you name these fruits, Miss Elizabeth?”
His niece’s lips twisted in thought as she studied the hanging fruit. “Apples?”
“That is a very good guess,” Miss Smith commended, “but incorrect. These,” she said, reaching up and testing the firmness of the fruit, “are pears. Observe their shape, how they taper toward the stem. These are not yet ready to be harvested, but they must be so before they are ripe, or they will all fall to the ground.”
“How do you know so much about pears?” Lizzy asked.
I might ask the same, Leo thought, observing the exchange with interest.
Miss Smith grinned. “I’ve eaten many of them—as have you, dear—but I have also read about them in books about horticulture. Today, we’ve come so that I might see what plants are here, and then as part of our lessons, we will learn more about them. When we return, I expect that you will be able to tell me all about each fruit before you taste it.”
A small pout puckered Lizzy’s lower lip before a smile replaced it. “But I will get to taste everything?”
“Everything that you correctly identify, yes.”
Lizzy laughed gleefully and skipped ahead, the dogs bounding after her.
Leo fell into step beside Miss Smith, his blood humming with awareness of her. She was still a mystery that he wished to solve, but there was also that illicit heat that she roused in him that had his full attention. He wanted to know more, wanted to spend more time in her company, wanted to…Christ, he wanted to touch her, to soddingtasteher. It was all forbidden, of course, completely dangerous to the both of them.
She gasped softly, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden tautness in his cods. Damn it, he was aching.
“Mangoes!” she breathed in awe.
His eyelids felt weighted, but he lifted them to watch the column of her neck arch delicately back. His gaze blazed a trail over her exposed skin, and a matching fire burned hotter in his blood with each inch that he inspected.
“I haven’t seen these since I was a child,” Miss Smith said wistfully.
Leo bit back a groan. “You are welcome to partake at your leisure, Miss Smith. Or I could have the cook include them in—”
“I found strawberries!” Lizzy squealed from the far end of the conservatory, her voice echoing through the large space.
His lips tugged in a grin. But his mirth swiftly fled, replaced by a low hum of awareness that seemed to vibrate just beneath his skin.
Miss Smith’s sweet floral scent, coupled with the fragrance of fresh soap and the fruits that surrounded them, filled his senses, and the space between them was suddenly closed. He was uncertain which of them had taken the first step, and he didn’t care.
Their gazes met and held and his pulse leapt. Their chests rose and fell with suddenly rapid breaths, the air between them growing nigh feverish. Miss Smith slid her hands up his arms, driving away every thought other thanherand the feelings she inspired in him.
Rational thought aside, his aching body led the way.
* * *
One would thinkthat somewhere in Juliana’s mind there would be a voice—likely one reminiscent of her father—telling her to back away from Mr. Notley, to abandon the desire surging through her, and to continue her walk through the conservatory. But no such voice came. All she felt was a bone-deep need to press her lips to his, to run her fingers through his beard, and his hair, to press her body flush against his…
