“I don’t mean to interrupt, I just wondered who was in the library so late.”
“What time . . . i-i-is it?” she asked, stifling a yawn within her inquiry.
“Just past midnight. I was heading to bed myself, and you probably should as well.”
Standing, she braced her hands behind her back and arched forward, throwing her head back in the stretch. Arms down, she rolled her head from side to side to loosen the muscles of her neck. He was amazed how indifferent she seemed to be in regard to propriety in this moment—unconscious of her movements—when she had been so formal in their previous interactions. She must feel a certain level of comfort in her cousin’s home, and he was oddly glad that she did not feel the need to remain constantly in check around him either.
“I’ll be done soon, but it seems I need to finish a plan in order to be taken seriously,” she said pointedly.
“Are all these books about gardening?” he asked, ignoring the jab and gesturing at the pile on the desk.
“Yes, thankfully the library contained quite a few. I’ve been renewing my familiarity with some of the history regarding trends in landscape architecture and studying popular forms and styles from the last century.” Running her hand over the spine of a book near her, she looked back down at her own plan. “I was inspired by some of the gardens at Althorp House the other day when we attended Lady Spencer’s soiree. Her gardens were designed by none other than Capability Brown.”
She gestured at another book, presumably about the designs of Brown, the famed landscape architect of the last century. Ethan walked over to the book and observed the clean lines in a drawing depicting one of the layouts.
“Is this the kind of garden you want to create?” Ethan asked, flipping through the plans in the book.
“No, I don’t think so.”
He looked up at Alice in surprise. “You don’t admire his work?”
“Oh, of course I do. How could one not? It’s beautiful.”
“But . . .”
“But I’d imagined something a bit less traditional, less proper. It’s so . . . contained.”
She pursed her lips at the last word, her body now rigid as she spoke of the restraint in the design. Yet a second later, Ethan watched as Alice transformed before his eyes. Her shoulders sloped away from her ears and her eyes became unfocused as she stared at a spot on the bookshelf opposite her.
“I want a design that’s allowed movement, that is freer, more . . . oh, what’s the word?”
“Wild?” he supplied.
“No, not wild.” Shaking her head, Alice returned her eyes to focus and met Ethan’s. “Just less controlled by strict boundaries.”
Closing the book, she picked it up and exited the library with a quiet determination, leaving Ethan with the feeling that Miss Pembroke may not have been discussing her ideas for the garden at all.
CHAPTER 7
Alice stood patiently, giving Mr. Beaumont a minute to compose himself.
Jaw clenched, tension radiated from him. She could imagine his internal monologue, silently berating himself for allowing her to affect him so profoundly that he had to exert effort not to grind his teeth.
“I thought we had worked out a plan, you can’t deviate from it on a whim. There are other projects happening on this estate—ones more important than agarden—and you can’t just pull men away from them to do your bidding.”
Alice waited for him to finish, keeping her expression as neutral as possible. She was somewhat sympathetic to his plight; after all, Priscilla had blindsided him, springing her on him the other day without any kind of preparation. And much to Alice’s chagrin, Mr. Beaumont wasn’t wrong in assuming she’d jumped in with both feet before having a true plan. But now there was a plan, and his profuse need for control and order was severely hampering the execution of said plan.
“Are you finished?” she asked when he stood, finally silent, though still radiating irritation through the twitching of hisfingers and compressed lips. When he gave a curt nod, she continued.
“I understand you are frustrated that I asked David and Miles for their help, as they were not working on the garden today, but I asked for their assistancetemporarilyso they might help Matthias move the sod out of the way. A place for the new shrubbery that’s to be delivered later today is necessary, is it not? It was only a minor deviation from your vision to keep the overall plan for the garden on track.”
“Then why didn’t you just tell me that?” Mr. Beaumont appeared completely exasperated with her. “I told you to run everything by me first. If you had just asked me for what you needed, I would have approved it, then we never would have had this misunderstanding!”
“I couldn’t find you—and hunting you down would have been a waste of the precious time you are so concerned with.” Alice forced herself to stop and take in a breath before they both started shouting.
“Taking on this renovation was not my idea,” she said, keeping her voice calm, “but Priscilla put me in charge. She saw how much I enjoy flowers and gardens and told me being in command of a project would be good for me. Though I can’t say I fully understand her reasoning, I’m inclined to follow her direction on this.”
As she had spoken, Alice noticed Mr. Beaumont’s shoulders slightly relax. He seemed to be carrying a large amount of responsibility on those shoulders. Part of her admired his willingness to take on all the projects himself—he showed great dedication—but these efforts would fall apart if he didn’t learn to delegate to those around him. One man simply could not do everything that was needed on the estate.
