“She’s not too young is she?” Dominic demanded sharply, his eyes open again and narrowed. “If they sent me a child—”
Gabriel interrupted with a laugh. “D’you really think the Prince Regent would have made his demands without first finding out if there was a Whitworth daughter of marriageable age? No, she’s at least old enough for that. Would you like me to read more of—”
“No.” Dominic waited. But Gabriel merely put the book he’d just picked up back on the nightstand and got comfortable in the stuffed chair to take a nap as soon as Dominic nodded off for one. As if there weren’t more to tell of his meeting with the Whitworth chit. As if Dominic weren’t the least bit curious about the girl who was being forced on him. He wasn’t. She wouldn’t be staying. He’d even supply a coach for her return trip when she refused to marry him.
But when Gabriel still said nothing else, Dominic finally snapped, “Bloody hell, what’s she look like?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t ask, but since you did...” Gabriel paused for a long sigh. “She’s got a wart on the left side of her jaw and another one by her nose. I didn’t stare at them too long, I promise. Red, florid cheeks more suited to a farm wench, big owlish eyes. But if you can overlook all that and her weight—”
“She’s fat, too?”
“A little—” Gabriel shook his head. “Very well, a lot. But a good diet and exercise could surely fix that. I can start a regimen for her if you—”
“No. And do not befriend her. I want her to hate this place and leave on her own.”
“So her chubbiness is a problem?”
“Don’t be obtuse, Gabe. I could not care less what she looks like.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because I would prefer not to be surprised one way or the other, and truth be told, I feared she might be a beauty sent here to tempt me, since her brother is a handsome fellow despite his black soul. I’m glad at least that she’s not comely, because my course was determined the moment that royal toady threatened me with the consequences of not following his master’s wishes. Justice will be served if Robert Whitworth loses everything that he cares about because ofhissister. So she has to refuse to marry me, and we are going to assure that she does. Are we clear on that?”
“Crystal.”
“Then fetch her to me.”
“You don’t care if she’s repulsed by what the doctor left on you?”
“I don’t care if she faints. Bring her—and some smelling salts with you.”
Chapter Ten
“WE NEED TO FINDout if there is a conservatory or a greenhouse where we can plant your herb cuttings,” Brooke said to Alfreda.
They were on their way to the stable to look for Raston, and Brooke also wanted to make sure Rebel was going to be well cared for. She’d left her bonnet and pelisse in the bedroom since the day was comfortably warm. Her Empire-style pink dress had short capped sleeves and, for modesty during daytime, a matching chemisette that was tucked into the deeply scooped neckline. Brooke had never had occasion to leave off the tucker, though she knew she would have been expected to when she attended evening gatherings in London.
“Those cuttings need to be planted soonest before they wither and die,” she added. “I know you’ve been worried about that.”
“You are my only worry, poppet. You are and always have been my one true focus, since the day they put you in my arms to nurse. The cuttings I can plant in the ground for now, perhaps behind the hedges where no one but the gardeners will notice them. There’s good, fertile soil here. That park behind the house attests to that.”
“Yes, but we can also build our own greenhouse if there isn’t one here. Harriet gave me money for this trip, more’n I needed. Not because she wanted to, but because it would reflect badly on her if she sent me here with empty pockets. You know how she is, always doing what’s ‘expected of her’ whether she wants to or not.”
“She loved you in her own way, poppet.”
“Don’t defend her. I know my mother and I don’t want to think about her now.” To keep that old hurt from joining all of the other unpleasant emotions she was dealing with right now, Brooke quickly changed the subject. “Do you think that’s a greenhouse?”
Alfreda followed Brooke’s gaze to a small building by the tall hedges bordering the park. “Hard to tell what’s in it from here. It could just be the gardeners’ shed.”
“I can’t tell from here if that’s glass on the roof and sides or just light-colored boards.”
Alfreda squinted her eyes at the little rectangular shed. “If it’s glass, it’s very dirty glass. But we’ll have a look after I find Raston.”
As soon as they stepped inside the stable, they heard a loud meow that seemed to come from above them and made both of them laugh. Raston didn’t get up from the long support beam where he was lying; he had just wanted them to know he’d seen them.
An elderly white-haired man approached with a teenage boy beside him and said, “The cat will be fine here, ma’am, actually a welcome addition. I spotted a few mice in the hay pile this morning and I was just thinking of fetching my sister’s cat from the village since our resident mouse-catcher seems to have abandoned us. Can’t have vermin underfoot here spooking the horses. Your cat will likely take care of that problem—if he’s yours?”
“Indeed,” Alfreda replied.
