Christopher chuckled. “Maybe I should consider a career change. The Duke of Huntington, renowned gardener.”
Frances giggled, and the sound was like music to his ears. “I think you’re better suited to the dukedom. But your gardening skills should be appreciated, nonetheless.”
He reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I have a good teacher.”
Once again, it felt like the entire world had stopped, and the only two people that mattered were the both of them.
“Look at what I did!”
Their moment was abruptly cut short by an excited Edwin tugging at Frances’s dress, demanding her attention.
Both Frances and Christopher turned to see Edwin holding a small, freshly planted rosebush, its roots wrapped carefully in burlap.
Frances beamed at him, her heart swelling with pride. “Edwin, that’s wonderful! You planted your first rose!”
Christopher stood up, dusting off his hands. “Well done, Edwin. That’s quite an accomplishment.”
Edwin’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Can I plant it here in the garden, with the others?”
Frances nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! Let’s find the perfect spot for it.”
The three of them searched the garden, eventually finding a sunny patch where the new rose would thrive. Edwin carefully planted the rosebush, and Frances helped him.
All the while, she could feel Christopher observing her intently.
“You see, Edwin,” she said softly, willing herself to not get distracted by Christopher’s relentless staring, “gardening is a lot like taking care of a family. It takes patience, care, and a lot of love.”
Edwin looked up at her, his young face serious. “I want to take care of this rose, just like you take care of us.”
Frances felt tears prick her eyes, and she smiled warmly at the boy. “You’re doing a wonderful job, Edwin. We’re very proud of you.”
She included the word ‘we’ intentionally. It was important to her that the children see both her and Christopher as one entity, in place of their parents.
Christopher placed a hand on Edwin’s shoulder, beaming, “We are, indeed.”
They stood together, admiring the newly planted rosebush. The moment felt sweet, shared by a real family.
As they finished their work, the governess took Edwin and Ernest inside to get changed and begin their lessons.
Frances brushed the dirt off her dress and was about to head inside herself when Christopher stopped her.
“Frances…” He held her gently by the arm, gazing down at her. “Thank you.”
Her nose scrunched up in confusion. “Thank you for what?”
“For everything. For being here, for giving the children moments like this…” He paused for a second, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “For being you.”
Suddenly, Frances’s heart felt full, and she looked away shyly. “It is my responsibility.”
She could not stop blushing for a single second as she walked back to the manor.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of a carriage arriving.
“Who is that?” she asked one of the maids. She had not been expecting any visitors.
“I shall go see who it is now,” the maid replied and hurriedly made her way to the front door.
But before she ever reached it, the door swung open and an imposing woman stepped in, her posture rigid and a scowl etched on her aging face.
