A knot formed in Mari’s tummy.
“Would you by any chance know what happened, Miss Marigold?” he asked, holding her gaze with his blue eyes. “And remember what I said earlier. I am not a fan of falsehoods."
She clutched her hands together, with his linen handkerchief around her finger. She stared at the ground and then up at him. “I hope you will not get into trouble with your uncle,” she said. “If you’d like, I can explain things to him. You see, the bunny just looked so sad in the cage and I guess I know what that can feel like…”
“Someone has put you in a cage?” The man’s eyes flashed with anger and his voice grew loud.
“No, no. I am sorry. I did not explain that well. I have never physically been in a cage, but I have been in a situation where I felt trapped. I guess I wanted the bunny to have his freedom back.”
The man studied her for a long moment.
“I will explain the situation to my uncle,” he said. “I appreciate that you owned up to your actions. But in the future, I will not be so forgiving if you meddle with my traps or other items in the garden.”
“Oh,” Mari said. “I will be sure to stay out of the gardens. I would hate to cause you any trouble.”
“No,” he replied. “I would be very sad if you did not come to the gardens again while I am here. You seem to enjoy them and I would hate to deprive you of that. It is simply a matter of obeying the rules.”
“I believe I can do that,” Mari said, smiling up at him. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome. Now, it appears you were gathering flowers. Will you still be able to do that with the injury to your finger or shall I assist you?”
However, before Mari could answer, he had already picked up the basket and clippers and was snipping away at some of Mr. Walker’s prize mums and adding them to the basket. Once it was nearly overflowing, he handed it back to her.
His gaze held hers for a brief moment before he tipped his hat, saying, “I must get back to my duties,” and walked away.
Though she knew it was impolite, Mari stared after him, her heart thundering in her chest.
“Mari, would you please help me with my hair?” Poppy turned to Mari in the room they shared with Violet and Lily. “I am hopeless.”
“I wonder why Miss Wickersham does not hire maids to assist us?” Violet asked.
“I believe she has done so in the past, but Miss Wickersham is very private about what happens here. Besides, we shall all soon have husbands who can provide us with as many servants as we shall ever need.”
“Especially whoever marries the Duke of Norwich,” Poppy said.
“Ah, now I understand why you are so eager for Mari to do your hair tonight,” Lily said, giving Poppy a knowing look. “While you were snooping, did you see an invitation from Miss Wickersham for the duke to join us for dinner tonight?”
“I could have kept all this information to myself, you know,” Poppy said. “And set myself up to win the duke’s heart.”
“As though you’d be able to keep news like that to yourself,” Lily said with a laugh. “Come now, Poppy. I am only teasing. If Miss Wickersham chooses you for the duke, he will have his hands full.”
“And his naughty chair,” Violet said, all the girls falling into gales of laughter.
“Wait, wait,” Poppy said when the laughter died down. “Do you mean there are naughty chairs at places other than Talcott House?”
“For your Papa’s sake, I hope so,” Violet said, trying to hold back a laugh.
“Now you are all just being mean,” Poppy said.
“You had all better quit your shenanigans and get ready for dinner.” Garland stood in the doorway, hair in two severe braids that were wrapped around her head like a coiled serpent. A hush fell over the bedchamber shared by the four girls.
“Yes, Garland,” Mari said. “Thank you for the reminder.”
Garland’s thick eyebrows rose and she looked at Mari with surprise. “Y-you’re welcome,” she said, a tone of confusion in her voice. Then she turned and left.
As soon as Garland exited the doorway, but certainly not before she was out of earshot, Poppy, Violet and even Lily burst into laughter.
Mari shook her finger at her roommates. “Stop that. You are all being very mean to Garland. She cannot help that she is dour. Perhaps she has never had a friend before.”
