Page 18 of The Marquess’s Forbidden Bride

Even if he would very much like to kiss her…

‘I will refrain from stopping in the herb garden,’ she continued, putting an end to his musing, ‘but I must warn you, I shall linger among the roses.’

‘You mentioned you had a particular interest in that flower.’

‘I do. But I will try very hard not to bore you, nattering on about them.’

He chuckled. ‘I promise to stem the flow of your oratory if I become bored.’

She grinned. ‘Please, do! I should hate to nip our promising friendship in the bud with my overenthusiasm.’

‘I doubt you could. I have great hopes of nurturing this friendship into full flower.’

A friendship, though, certain to be complicated by his unexpected change of station, he thought with irritation.

The smile on her face brightened and her step quickened. ‘You truly do love this place, don’t you?’ he remarked as they entered a shrub-bordered space enclosing a number of rose beds.

‘I adore it! Kew only reinforces the fact that I was born into the wrong situation,’ she said as she led him on. ‘I should have been a plant explorer, like Frances Masson, who brought so many new species back to London for Sir Joseph. Or at least a gardener.’

‘Then the world would have lost a lovely lady.’

To his surprise, she grimaced. ‘One conventional lady more or less is little loss to the world. I try to push away the fact that sooner or later, I will most likely become “conventional”, too, like every other female of my class. Which is why I’m rebuffing suitors this Season. Few if any husbands would understand my yearning to immerse myself in nature. They’ll want to press me in the mould of a traditional wife. Compel me to abandon seeds and cuttings and glass house to keep their house, order their meals, mingle at Society gatherings and birth their children.’

‘Whereas you would rather be digging in the dirt?’

‘Yes. How I wish I might remain independent! How wonderful it would be to have the time and resources to create a rose garden like the one Josephine Bonaparte cultivated at her estate at Malmaison!’

Her wistful tone eliciting his sympathy, Charles said, ‘Surely it will not be so hard to find a husband who’ll admire your passion and allow you your gardening interests.’

‘Maybe,’ she said dubiously. ‘Oh, I know it’s an impossible dream to have an establishment like Josephine’s. But I would like to have one like my aunt’s. Since mention of gardening to most Society swains either has them look at me curiously or quickly change the subject, I doubt I’ll find an agreeable partner in the Marriage Mart.’

‘You want merely an “agreeable” partner?’ he echoed, surprised to hear her express so prosaic a preference. ‘What about falling in love? I thought every young lady yearned for high romance.’

She made a deprecating sound. ‘I’m not sure I believe in it—or would wish to experience it, if it does exist. My mother reportedly adored my father—until his gaming ruined us and the many pregnancies she endured to finally produce the heir he craved destroyed her health. Then my aunt—’ She broke off abruptly. ‘Well, that’s another story. Whereas my sister Sarah had to give up the man she loved and marry a wealthy man—Englemere—to save the family. Yet their marriage, initially based upon friendship and mutual need, has proven very satisfying.’

‘I can appreciate that point of view,’ Charles said. ‘Although it seems my two friends, Hart and Rafe, have both found true love-mates, my own experience argues that such a bond is rare. My own foster parents share a warm devotion, which to me seems the best basis for marriage.’

‘Exactly. Now, if I could find a gentleman friend who’d be happy with a wife who devotes herself to her garden… Better yet, an older gentleman who already had heirs, so I might be spared the dangers of childbirth.’

‘You would wed a man in his dotage?’ he asked incredulously.

She blushed. ‘No, probably not. But along with avoiding being trapped into social duties like Sarah’s, I would prefer not to spend half my life producing babies. So I plan to escape this Season unwed and delay marriage for as long as I can thereafter.’ She grinned. ‘Perhaps, in the end, I will persuade my gardening neighbour, who has no title at all and only a modest estate, that I’d make him a good wife.’

‘He might enjoy gardening, but if he’s young and vigorous, he’d not want marriage blanche,’ Charles warned.

‘No, like most men, he probably wants a brace of strapping sons,’ she agreed with a sigh. ‘Childbirth is a danger I’ll probably not be able to avoid. Though I will refuse to submit to the endless years of it that ruined my mother’s health!’ Her fierce tone softened. ‘A refusal that would be difficult to enforce,’ she admitted. ‘Which just gives me another reason to avoid matrimony, if I could!’

‘It’s hardly fair of me to tweak you on the subject of wedlock, when I hope to stave off marriage myself, despite my new circumstances,’ he admitted.

She raised her eyebrows inquisitively. ‘You’re not being pressed to marry already, are you?’

‘Not pressed, exactly. But both my aunt and the solicitor have stressed that finding a “suitable wife” would ease my transition into my new role. Oh, I’ve always thought I would marry…eventually. Never someone from Society, though. With no idea of my heritage, I wouldn’t risk humiliating a well-born wife if it were later discovered I was in fact base-born. I thought eventually I might wed someone from a genteel family living near Harding Glen, who would know and value me for being John Marsden’s adopted son and heir. But before wedding anyone, I always felt I must resolve this…restless yearning to discover my heritage and find out who I was, where I came from.’

He gave her a rueful look. ‘I’ve abruptly discovered that heritage to be nothing like what I’d imagined. The army, where a man is valued for his skill and resourcefulness as a soldier, was the only place I’ve ever truly felt at home, and now I fit neither into my father’s place at Harding Glen or as Marquess of Richland. Before I take a wife, I must resolve that dilemma. One should be comfortable in one’s own self before linking one’s life to another, don’t you think?’

‘Indeed. You must believe you will do so, in time. You’ve only just discovered your heritage, after all. I wish you the best as you endeavour to transition from the army and bring the two parts of your heritage together into one cohesive, comfortable whole.’

He was somewhat shocked to have confided so much to her, revealing doubts and struggles he’d never spoken about to anyone else. Not at school, where he’d needed to armour himself against abuse from others. Or in the army, where his fellow soldier’s acceptance of him just as he was put questions about his heritage into abeyance.