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Bernard licked his finger and turned to the next page of his book. “It was your aunt, as it happens.”

Marina did not see her father’s sister very often and, when she did, she was never more grateful than when the old goat finally left. Her aunt’s visits boiled down to barely veiled insults, criticism framed as ‘friendly advice’, and making comments about what she would do with the rooms of her childhood home, as if her eldest son was already Viscount.

“Eager to get rid of me so she need not worry about my cousin losing any of his inheritance?” Marina said dryly.

What other reason could there be?

“Oh no, Rini, it was nothing like that,” Bernard insisted. “She had heard about your plans to potentially seek a husband this Season and wanted to offer some friendly assistance.”

“Friendly, indeed,” Marina muttered with a roll of her eyes.

You are too naïve for your own good, Uncle.

Her aunt was as ‘friendly’ as a fox at the henhouse door, but Bernard, in all his kindness, would not hear a bad word said about her. Although, he did chide his sister if he happened to overhear one of her snide remarks toward Marina.

“Well, never mind about the garden party,” Bernard said brightly. “I am sure you will have ample opportunities when we leave on Friday.”

Marina’s eyes widened, her throat tight. “Leave?”

“Did I not mention it before?” Bernard flipped another page of his book. “We are going to spend the Season in London, with everyone else. For the first time in years, my townhouse shall see more than a few days of occupation.”

Looking around the garden workshop, where everything she loved and cared about existed, Marina felt her heart sink. For if she did, by some miracle, find a husband in London, who was to say when she might return to this beloved place?

It will not be my home anymore…

CHAPTER FIVE

Marina fanned herself furiously in the afternoon heat, though the warmth in her face and the sweat on her brow had less to do with the baking sun and more to do with the stares and whispers aimed in her direction.

After arriving in London that morning, her uncle had wanted to take a walk through Hyde Park, and she had not been able to think of an excuse not to join him.

“This is lovely, is it not?” Bernard said, closing his eyes to the warm sunshine, inhaling the summer air.

Marina forced a smile. “It is a pleasant day for a stroll.”

“Are you well?” Bernard turned his attention to his niece. “I thought you would enjoy this, but you have been terribly quiet since we left the townhouse. Not at all yourself.”

“You know I find traveling tiring,” she replied. “I think it is the motion of the carriage; it rocks me and makes me very sleepy. That is all. I shall be much improved by tomorrow.”

He was oblivious to the stares and giggles, and she wanted to keep it that way. If she were to point out that she was the object of ridicule because he had asked her to walk in such a public place with him, the guilt would have tormented him. For he was her uncle; he never noticed her scars.

“We can return to the house, if you like?” he asked. “I thought a wander would refresh you, not weary you. I know you do not much care for the city, but I hoped that being among greenery would be a tonic. It is such a vast park that you can simply pretend we are still in the countryside.”

Marina nodded. “I promise, I am just tired, but we do not need to return immediately. I would like to walk for a little while longer.”

“You are not just saying that?”

“I swear it; I am not.”

She added a more genuine smile, concentrating on the worry lines that marked his brow and not the sly glances coming from a gaggle of nearby ladies.

What did it matter if everyone was staring at her? Should she not just enjoy this time with her uncle before the possibility of marriage took her away from him, the last parental figure she had to rely on? And it was nice to be among greenery, even if that greenery was not so diverse as the Stadley Estate’s expansive gardens.

“Imagine all the herbs you could plant here,” she said, and began to walk again. “Just rows and rows of greenhouses. Would that not be a wondrous thing?”

Her uncle laughed and his worry lines softened. “A remarkable thing!”

As they chattered together, they became so invested in their grand plans for the alternative future of Hyde Park that Marina forgot about the stares and whispers entirely. Aware of nothing but her imagination and her uncle’s enthusiasm for it, picturing great palm houses to grow tropical trees, the immaculate lawns all plowed and planted with useful things, and a few large warehouses where affordable medicine could be created for all.