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“Well, you must have done something to drive him away.”
“You can ask the maids. One of them was present for almost every interaction we had, except for those balls, when Miss Carruthers acted as my escort, and no one could ever doubt her integrity.”
His mouth twisted with displeasure, and he laid his hands flat on the surface of the desk, perhaps to stop them from tugging at his hair and clothes. Nothing frustrated him quite as much as his daughter.
“Perhaps I will ask the maids for their opinions,” he said thoughtfully. “You must have said or done something to make him think of you as an undesirable wife. The man was besotted when he asked for your hand. It beggars belief that he would undergo such an abrupt about-face.”
“I cannot think of anything,” she lied.
“Hmm.” He pursed his lips. “If I find that your bluestocking tendencies are to blame, I won’t allow your interest in perfumery to continue. It’s considered harmless enough, but I know how you go on sometimes. You’d best hope I don’t discover that’s what happened, or it’ll be the end of your little diversion.”
Seraphina’s heart sank. It wasn’t the first time he had threatened to stop tolerating her so-called perfumery, but he’d never had this much cause to be angry with her either. She just hoped that Bessie kept her mouth shut.
If anyone learned the truth, she’d be in so much trouble.
CHAPTER 4
As he reached the outskirts of London, the ever-present smell of smoke and urban life filled his nostrils, and Trevor’s instincts started screaming at him to turn around.
He guided his horse to the nearest park, needing the reminder that there were pockets of greenery in the city. He’d been traveling on horseback for days, his arse ached, and as much as he wanted to hole up in a private space to recover, he wasn’t ready to face the inquisition his mother would put him through.
He dismounted and led his horse by the reins deeper into the park, doing his best to stop the gelding from eating the flowers they passed despite the horse’s best efforts and apparent certainty that they would be delicious.
They walked until they reached a pond, where Trevor looped the reins around a branch on a nearby tree and stretched, loosening his tight muscles and grimacing when something cracked in his back.
He gazed out over the water, smiling when he spotted waterlilies with small buds beginning to form. He mentally cataloged them as he considered how to avoid being driven crazy by his mother’s unavoidable excitement about him finally being open to marriage—not to mention the best methods to prevent London-related headaches.
If he was to have any chance of getting through the situation with his sanity intact, he would have to spend time in the park every day and find a way to prevent Lady Wembley from getting carried away.
Voices from behind startled him, and he glanced over his shoulder, surprised to see a wealthy merchant’s wife and daughter strolling through the gardens. He remembered their names after having been introduced to them during one of his brief visits to London in the past.
Trevor was good with names, but he was never certain whether it was appropriate to show that he remembered someone he had only encountered in passing.
As the women approached, he turned fully to face them and raised his hand. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Mullins and Miss Mullins.”
Mrs. Mullins tilted her head quizzically. “Good afternoon, sir.” Her gaze slid sideways to his horse, and she added, “It’s a lovely day for a ride.”
“Indeed. Although I’m not riding for pleasure. I’ve traveled from Lincolnshire.”
Her eyes widened. “Lincolnshire? On horseback? Isn’t it a journey of several days?”
“It is, but I suffer from carriage sickness. My belongings are being transported separately. I stopped here for a brief respite, and I was delighted to see such excellent specimens of the nymphaea in the pond.”
The woman, who clearly had no idea who he was or else she would have greeted him by name, blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Waterlilies,” he explained, gesturing to the plants in question. “They aren’t ready to bloom yet, but it won’t be long. There are at least two different types here. If you look closely, you’ll notice that one sits just on top of the water while the other sits just below the surface. There is also a slight variation in the coloring. If you…”
He trailed off when he noticed that their eyes had glazed over, kicking himself for delving into a topic that he’d forgotten most society ladies found uninteresting.
“How fascinating,” Mrs. Mullins said dryly.
“What brings you so far from Mayfair?” Belatedly, he realized that while they were wealthy, he wasn’t sure exactly how much money they had. Perhaps they didn’t live in Mayfair and it was uncouth of him to draw attention to that. “Not that Mayfair is necessarily the best part of London. Some of the other districts are also nice. Perhaps not quite as safe, but filled with interesting people who have no less intrinsic value than anyone else.”
Good lord, stop him now. Why was it that he either couldn’t speak or babbled inanely when he was nervous?
He bowed. “Please excuse me. My mother is expecting me.”
He hurriedly unhooked the reins and strode away, grateful that his long legs allowed him to escape quickly without running. He could only hope that the Mullinses continued to have no idea who he was. If he never saw them again, that would be ideal.
