Soon, the other Laurels arrived in clusters of bright shawls and soft chatter, and Lady Kendrick introduced the activity for the day: botany.
The older lady introduced the botanist, Mr. Jones, a mild-mannered gentleman with spectacles perched precariously on his long nose, who began leading them through the gardens. His tall, lanky frame guided the way as he pointed out winter specimens in a flamboyant manner.
“What type of plant is this? She’s so magnificent,” one of the ladies neared a magenta plant, pointing at it to gain Mr. Jones’ attention.
The older man turned with a smile and neared the plant. “She truly is magnificent. Not merely for the way she looks, but what she’s capable of. She can endure even the harshest winter months. It is commonly known as butterflies’ candy in more common vernacular.”
Looking down, Isabelle admired the light pink flowers with their darker center and lines of yellow that separated the petals. It truly was a remarkably beautiful flower.
The ladies’ gasps of surprise and adoration filled the open space, and then they began moving again.
Feeling as if she were being watched, Isabelle looked up to see the duke’s eyes tracking her every move. Her breath caught in her throat, but he quickly averted his gaze and began to follow the throng of ladies.
Was he thinking of the kiss?
Isabella wondered if he would address the matter at some point in time. What would she even say to him if he brought up the kiss? She took a deep breath and fell into step behind the group.
“Do you have any lilies we can explore?” Another one of the ladies asked when the group reached a display of frost-tipped shrubs, winter roses, and evergreen bushes.
Mr. Jones smiled.
“Unfortunately, due to the extreme weather, we pull them out and replant them when it’s more favorable to do so. I believe there is hardly a person who would appreciate seeing frozen lilies.”
A few ladies laughed while others sighed in disappointment as though their whole world had just collapsed.
Must they always be so dramatic?
Isabella fought the urge to roll her eyes, stealing a glance instead at the duke, who seemed just as unimpressed as she was with their reactions.
Next, they approached the glass-domed conservatory containing delicate foreign plants, which were examined with eager interest by the ladies.
Yet Isabella found it nearly impossible to listen, not with the pressure of the duke’s presence around her.
The duke walked only a few paces behind her and Lady Kendrick. Sometimes, he lingered close enough that his coat brushed her cloak.
Every gentle breeze and whisp of wind made his presence undeniable as the wooden scent of his must drifted past her.
Once, as the botanist pointed out a rare winter fern growing beneath a stone arch, the duke stepped forward at thesame instant she did, and their shoulders collided lightly, unintentionally, yet enough to jolt her body with an awareness she despised.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Your Grace,” she murmured.
He only nodded in response and walked away.
Still, that slight touch lingered far longer than she’d like to admit.
Their gloves brushed a moment later when they both reached to steady Lady Kendrick over a small patch of uneven stone. Isabella had snatched her hand away at once and caught the clenching of his jaw, but neither of them had said a word.
“There is a hedge maze on the grounds. Why not end our excursion with a little adventure?” Lady Kendrick announced, her brows wiggling with mischief, and the Laurels welcomed the idea at once, chattering excitedly as they approached the tall green walls of the maze.
The hedges towered above them, trimmed with meticulous care, their leaves dark and glistening with morning dew and a little frost.
Isabella entered with them, still determined to keep far from the duke, weaving her way deeper into the web of twisting corridors without thinking.
But enthusiasm quickly turned to confusion when pathways split without warning and doubled back in ways that seemed almost designed to disorient them.
Laughter echoed through the narrow tunnels of greenery as the ladies called out to one another, their voices ricocheting in playful confusion. Isabella slowed her steps, half-turning as she listened for familiar voices.
“Lady Kendrick?” she called softly.
