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“What experience do you have in groundskeeping?” Mr. Wakefield asked.

Archie spoke with confidence, but without arrogance. “I was an undergardener at Teviot Castle from the time I was a young lad until very recently. In the time since, I’ve traveled around a wee bit, doing work in other places. I’ve helped people hereabout with drainage on their farms and seeing to troublesome trees and plants.”

“What is it you believe needs attention on the grounds here?”

Sebastian thanked the heavens they’d discussed this on the way over.

Archie reiterated much of what Sebastian said, while adding what he knew of the various insects and soil fungi that caused difficulties in the area.

Mr. Wakefield nodded throughout. “And are you able to design and build an ornamental garden? My wife and I are interested in having one here.”

Archie nodded. The two began to discuss various aspects of such an undertaking; which plants the Wakefields preferred, how large they wanted the fine garden to be. Archie made suggestions about where on the estate made the most sense to build such a thing.

Sebastian was glad Archie was making a good impression, but he worried a bit. Miss Wakefield had expressed concern about her parents spending money they didn’t have. He hoped, for Archie’s sake, this job proved the opportunity he wanted and not a disappointment.

It was in the very next moment that Miss Wakefield herself passed nearby. She spotted them there and adjusted her path to come where they were. She had her small box with her, the one he knew contained her art supplies. Had she been drawing again? He didn’t see an easel amongst her things, so she likely hadn’t been painting.

“Cordelia,” Mr. Wakefield said, “you will be pleased to know that we may very well be able to install an ornamental garden on the grounds.”

“An ornamental garden?” She kept all sounds of concern out of her voice, but Sebastian saw precisely that in her eyes. “The kitchen garden is also in need of attention. And as it is providing our food, that seems important.”

Mr. Wakefield stiffened. “We are discussing that as well, of course.”

Miss Wakefield offered a quick, somewhat awkward smile. It was not unlike the one she’d given Sebastian in the kitchen a fortnight earlier after nearly breaking his nose.

“The grounds are very beautiful,” Miss Wakefield said. “I am certain they will be even more so after the attentions of a skilled groundskeeper.”

Archie launched enthusiastically into agreement with her. “There’s a large tree south of the house, a field maple, that I’m particularly fond of. The previous residents of Burnwick House planted it, having brought it from England.”

Sincere excitement filled Miss Wakefield’s face. She opened up her box and pulled out a slip of parchment. “This tree?”

Archie looked at the paper in her hand and nodded, his eyes pulling wide. “Its very likeness.”

“I sketched it yesterday,” she said. “There’s another tree on the road past the castle that I sketched a number of days ago. Sebastian of the Home Farm tells me it is also a favorite hereabout.”

“I know the very tree you mean, Miss Wakefield,” Archie said. “It’s a grand tree.”

“Cordelia,” Mr. Wakefield said, a scold in his tone, “we’re discussing very important matters. Please do not interrupt with your … art.” He said the last word in a tone of something approaching mockery.

Though Sebastian was not in a position to speak in defense of Miss Wakefield, he felt his hackles go up on her behalf. Whether or not a parent thought art a worthwhile pursuit, to dismiss her skill in the way her father had rankled.

“Forgive me.” She spoke quickly and with obvious embarrassment. “I’ll cease interrupting.”

She retreated without a great deal of grace. It reminded Sebastian forcefully of how she’d moved about the day she’d hit him with her racquet. What a contradiction she was. Sometimes she moved with fluidity and precision. At times, she reminded him of Shadow when she’d first been born, stumbling and awkward.

“Archie is the expert in matters of grounds and gardens,” Sebastian said to Mr. Wakefield. “I’ll leave the two of you to your discussion.”

Sebastian slipped away from the other two. If he were smart, he would go directly back to the Teviot Castle home farm. But he clearly was something of a dolt. His steps took him instead in the direction Miss Wakefield had gone. It was easy to catch up with her; she wasn’t moving very quickly.

“Miss Wakefield.”

She stopped and looked back at him. She seemed pleased to see him there. That did his heart more good than he cared to admit.

“You did a fine job drawing the field maple,” he said. “I can see you are taking to heart your determination to know your new home better.”

“I am trying. Although, it occurs to me I might do best to not draw more of the Burnwick grounds, as those seem likely to change.”

They walked along a path that ran beside some overgrown hedgerows.