Ethan watched as she trailed dainty fingers—which had decidedlynotbeen used for rough work—up an equally delicate stem. Brushing her fingertips across a petal, she plucked it from the flower’s head and brought it to her nose as she pinched it to release the oils. The scent of roses quickly reached him, and he marveled at how her actions so closely echoed his own from just moments before. Mesmerized, Ethan moved toward her, desperate to discover exactly who she was.
“Is there something I can help you with, miss?” he inquired once he was only a step or two away.
She started, and a warm blush ran across her cheeks that were lightly sprinkled with freckles, overtaking her pale complexion. It was quite becoming. Turning toward Ethan, she glanced down, but not quickly enough to obscure the warm brown eyes he glimpsed underneath her long lashes.
Lifting a hand to her breastbone, she took in a deep breath, steading herself before promptly transforming into a completely different person right before his eyes.
“You startled me,” she chastised, looking up at him. Superiority and arrogance radiated from her pursed lips. Though a good head shorter than he was and forced to tilther head back to speak to Ethan directly, she managed her expression to appear as ifshewere the one looking down her nose athim.
“I need lemons for the marchioness. Please gather some for me—and quickly. I don’t wish to dally out here.”
It was amazing to Ethan how quickly her entire demeanor had altered as she issued her sharp command, souring her beautiful features and his opinion of her right along with it. What had seemed enchanting a moment ago now appeared haughty. It was the exact kind of entitled behavior he had come here to escape, and he would have none of it today.
“If it’s lemons you seek, then why are you defacing my flowers?”
Ethan saw her stiffen at his question—somehow becoming even more rigid if possible—but her cheeks colored further.
“Who areyouto questionme?” she bit out. “You work for the estate, do you not? Please do as you are asked.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ethan sighed before responding to the spoiled woman in front of him and walked back to the entryway to pick up his jacket. This was obviously a young woman who’d been raised as a lady, and the last thing he needed was for her to complain about her sensibilities being offended by his under-dressed state. For he was sure she wouldbe reporting him once he’d had his say regarding her attitude.
Swinging his limb back to find the sleeve of his coat, Ethan caught the interloper eyeing his arms. Her charming blush returned and her frame softened, but when he quirked an eyebrow at her unladylike perusal, she snapped back into her stiff posture. It struck him as unnatural, rather like a performance she was putting on to convey what she believed to be proper deportment.
“There are cutting shears just over there.” He motioned with his head while adjusting his lapels, fumbling the orange blossomhe still held and dropping the crushed bloom. Her eyes followed the path of the broken flower to the floor and flared slightly as she recognized the object, perhaps noting the similarity to her own action. “If you are collecting lemons for the lady of the house, be my guest,” he said, their eyes now locked on each other. “The citrus trees are just beyond the flowers.”
Ethan had work to do, and while collecting a few lemons for the marchioness’s dinner was not a hardship and would take mere moments, he was not inclined to help a woman who believing him to be a gardener and herself superior, had treated him with such disdain. She could gather the lemons herself, and god help her if she talked to another person on the estate in such an imperious manner.
The young lady’s eyes grew wide at his refusal to do her bidding, turning flinty as she narrowed them in his direction. “And just who do you think you are? Do you have any idea whoIam?” she seethed. “I should report your impertinent behavior to the marchioness.”
Ethan smirked at her indignation. No, he hadn’t the faintest idea, but at this point he couldn’t care less. “You go ahead and do just that.”
CHAPTER 3
Alice smothered an agitated sigh as she descended the stairs to dinner, acutely aware that she was late.
It was hardly her fault that she had no time to prepare for dinner. After all, how could one be expected to dress appropriately in only thirty minutes when the lady’s maid was running late and questioning her chosen attire? What was it with the servants in this house? They did not seem to know their place, and Alice was surprised Priscilla would allow such informal behavior from her staff. Her aunt, Lady Wrexham, would certainly have never allowed it and surely impressed upon Priscilla the importance of leading her own household in the same manner.
And who could forget the audacity of the gardener? Alice’s cheeks flamed when she recalled the grounds man she had encountered in the glasshouse. She was almost certain it was the same man she’d observed working the grounds earlier, and hard as she had tried not to gaze at him in his dishabille, she couldn’t help but notice his forearms as they flexed and turned while he donned his jacket. Regardless, the absolute impertinence of the man—leaving her to collect the lemons herself. Really, it was too much to be born.
Determined to have a word with her cousin and Hampton, Alice hastened to the dining room. Once outside, however, she couldn’t bring herself to open the door and take the final step across the threshold. Being late on the very first night of her cousin’s hospitality was not putting her best foot forward, and the last thing she wanted to do was disappoint someone she admired.
Absentmindedly rubbing the side of her nail through her glove as if she could reach the ragged cuticle there, Alice caught herself and had to force the hand down to her side. Taking in a deep breath, she composed her face before gliding into the room as if she hadn’t a care in the world, believing everyone would wait for her presence. Her father and aunt had taught her that a lady always acted as if she were in complete control, that everything was going in the exact manner she had intended. She would not let them down now simply because she was running behind.
“Ah, there you are!” Hampton said with a smile, noting Alice’s presence.
Before she could look in the marquess’s direction, her gaze was caught on the artful display of greenery and early blooms she had cut and arranged only a few short hours before. While in the glasshouse gathering lemons, she’d decided to also cut some flowers for her cousin in gratitude of her tutelage. A genuine smile blossomed on Alice’s face at seeing the arrangement in a place of honor, centered on the dinner table. Finally taking in the rest of the room, she acknowledged her hosts with a small bow.
“Oh, darling, I should have told you that we dress rather casually when it’s just family for dinner. Didn’t Emily mention anything?”
“Emily?” she said, only catching the end of Priscilla’s statement, still distracted by the pleasure of seeing her gift treated with such respect.
“Yes, Emily. My lady’s maid. Didn’t she tell you we usually don’t make a fuss over dressing for dinner?”
Alice’s blush returned as her faux pas began to sink in. She thought the maid had been rude when suggesting other items Alice might wear to dinner, but in fact she’d only been trying to help, knowing the dress she had picked out herself would be much too elaborate to match Priscilla’s more relaxed attire. And to make things worse, she hadn’t even thought to gather the woman’s name. Her cheeks burned in shame, and she picked at the row of beads below her bustline, fidgeting in her distress.
Her new gown that felt like beautiful armor only a moment ago, giving her confidence, now made her conspicuous. Alice felt incredibly foolish for not heeding Emily’s advice. She had been so eager to put her best foot forward that she hadn’t listened, and now she found herself stumbling. Alice dropped her head into her hands, fingers curling in on themselves, and once again started worrying at the hangnail on her thumb through the kid skin of her gloves.
Of course it was at that moment, when she was feeling the most uncertain, that a movement across the room caught her eye. Looking up, Alice suppressed a gasp upon recognizing the handsome groundsman from the glasshouse.
