Page 40 of The Marquess’s Forbidden Bride

As Johnson departed down a different path, they continued into the garden, past the gingko tree which, with May soon to give way to June, was in full leaf. In the beds bordering the Long Walk, late-blooming tulips still waved bright red heads from the beds, but other blooms were taking over.

‘What a pleasing mix of colours,’ Charles observed. ‘The purple with the bright orange and yellow, the pinks and reds nodding over the snowy white.’

‘Yes, Johnson and his team truly are artists painting with flowers. The purple and blue of cranesbills and cornflowers bedded out beside the orange of the calendulas. The pink of sweet williams with the white of sweet alyssum.’

‘I thought I detected a sweet scent! The fragrance isn’t from the roses, then?’

‘No, Sweet William and alyssum are both honey-scented, as are these purple flowers. They are pansies, by the way, a larger form of our native violas—carefully bred through many crossings, I’m delighted to inform you, by a female gardener, Lady Mary Elizabeth Bennett.’

‘A lady whose work you would be keen to emulate,’ he guessed.

‘Very much!’ She looked up at him, her face ardent. ‘Imagine the thrill of developing a unique new flower with a fuller range of bloom and scent! How fortunate Lady Mary was, having both funds and encouragement to be able to devote herself to the work. As third daughter and the youngest child of the Earl of Tankerville, she wasn’t pressed to marry.’

Her smile faded. ‘Alas, few females are so fortunately situated. Which is probably why so few have made such discoveries. Ah, but here we are, at the roses again.’

He followed her into the maze of beds and borders, thinking how sad and frustrating it must be to be constrained from pursuing her passionate interest. Not to be able to travel like the plant explorers she so admired or explore new varieties as gardeners like Johnson could daily. It truly didn’t seem fair that she should have to give up working at what gave her such pleasure and be moulded into a narrow traditional role just because she was female.

He wasn’t sure what he could do to help her, but he’d give her as much encouragement as he could now. And maybe, if in future, if he could claim her… If she was by then amenable to being claimed…

‘Tell me more about Mr and Mrs Marsden, please,’ she said, putting an end to that speculation. ‘They are well, I trust?’

‘Very well. I’ve urged them to visit me in London, but they are…reluctant. I’d written the bare facts of what happened, of course, but once I related the whole story, Father guessed without my saying anything that the Strattons were reluctant to accept me. The Marsdens being no more highly born than my mother, they felt their appearance in London might be…unhelpful. Like you, they do not wish to make my assimilation into the Stratton family or acceptance by Society as marquess any more difficult that it already is.’

He sighed, recalling their conversation. ‘Though both are delighted for me, I sensed…sadness, too. I knew Father had counted on turning Harding Glen over to me in a few years and enjoying his retirement by my side. Though I assured them I would always have time for them and Harding Glen, I couldn’t dispute that with more and larger properties to oversee, I will see them less often and never be able to reside permanently on the estate Father spent his lifetime managing.’

‘Could you not convince them to come live with you, wherever you choose to make your primary residence?’

‘I shall try, but it will be difficult to pry Father away from land he’s tended all these years. Besides, I’m afraid they would be snubbed by the Strattons and others of high birth, at least here in London. Can you see Lord Aldersby talking with Father about the proper care of pigs or Lady Jersey exchanging recipes for elderberry cough syrup with my mother?’

Miss Wellingford laughed. ‘Probably not! I, however, would be happy to trade recipes for herbal remedies and hear all about her garden. I do hope you convince them to visit London! Sarah would host a dinner in their honour—one with only close friends and family who’d welcome rather than patronise them. We all want to meet the people who raised the fine man you’ve become. Being a fine man is so much more important than being born a nobleman,’ she said, gazing up at him.

The tenderness in that glance caused an odd pain in his chest. He was humbly glad she thought him a ‘fine’ man. It made him want to live up to that assessment and be a man worthy of her admiration.

Given the tenderness of that glance…worthy of her love?

How tempted he was to pursue that pathway! But caution restrained him again. Even were he still heir only to a modest estate, he’d not fully acclimated himself to his role outside the army. He’d hardly begun the task of mastering the far more complicated position he’d fallen heir to. Any wife—especially a lady as lovely and gifted as Miss Wellingford—deserved a husband who had his responsibilities well in hand and felt himself comfortable in his role.

He couldn’t claim to offer that…yet. In the meantime, he’d treasure their friendship and remain grateful for her support and encouragement.

‘I shall try again to persuade them to London once Hart and Rafe arrive. I want them to meet the friends who saved my life, making my return to England possible.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Saved your life? How did that come about?’

‘You truly want to hear the tale?’

‘Of course! If relating it would not bring back…unpleasant memories.’

‘No—that particular adventure had a fortunate ending. Very well, then. Hart, Rafe and I were from different dragoon units and had never served together. As mounted troops, we were not involved in siege assaults, which the regular infantry conducts. But those known to be good marksmen were called on to assist the riflemen in providing covering fire for the troops assaulting the walls. And so we were…for the siege of Badajoz.’

As they wandered among the roses, he continued, ‘Targeted by the defenders within the fortress, we advanced using what cover we could find, firing as we went. Hart, Rafe and I ended up pinned down behind the same bit of broken wall, covering each other as we continued firing back for the whole of that hellish day. By the time it was over, the fortress breached and the walls swept clean of defenders, we knew we owed our survival to each other’s courage and skill. The bond established there deepened during our subsequent service in the Peninsula.’

‘Nothing like surviving the searing encounter of battle to forge indissoluble friendships?’

‘Exactly. Friendships I’m counting on to ease me into this next phase of life. Hart especially should be of help, as his situation is closest to mine. He grew up expecting to tend his mother’s small Scottish estate, only to have thrust upon him the title and responsibilities of an English dukedom. Fortunately, he had the good sense to wed the woman who for several years had been overseeing the main estate for her sister, the late duke’s widow.’

‘Alas, there is no such capable lady waiting in the wings for you, I suppose?’

‘No one waiting…though I hope one day to convince one special lady to take me on,’ he said, avoiding her gaze, unwilling to be more specific but hoping she might understand his inference. ‘For the present, I shall have to rely on the advice of the estate’s trustees and the help of friends. I must find my feet as marquess and manager before I can in good conscience take on a wife. Though both friends have written highly of the marital estate, I can only hope I may be lucky enough to find the sort of ardent mutual love they share with their ladies.’