Satisfied, he proceeded into the greenhouse, admiring the neat soil beds where new blooms were growing well. He smiled at the sight of orchids in bloom, wondering if Anna would accept his apology this time, if he were to pick some for her, or if she would rip them from his hand again.
At the far end, there was a little stone fountain and a couple of wrought-iron chairs. He went there directly, and sat down, closing his eyes to enjoy the earthy aromas all around him and the warm caress of the air.
Once he had inhaled his fill, he glanced back over his shoulder to make sure he was truly alone and drew out the letter that had arrived for him that morning. He already knew who it was from, and with a sigh, he opened it and began to read:
Dear Brother,
I hope this letter finds you well, though I am not certain if the address is correct. I have it on good authority that it is, but perhaps not.
You see, I am becoming more desperate, Brother. It is imperative that you respond to me, for it is growing closer to the date when my life will change forever, and your assistance is needed. I understand that you feel you owe me nothing and, ordinarily, I would not dare to make a demand of you, but in this instance I must insist. I do not wish to take drastic measures, so I hope that, this time, I shall hear from you.
Yours Sincerely,
Norman
“Judging by your face, that must be good news,” a voice said, snapping his head up so fast that his neck twinged.
Anna stood halfway down the greenhouse, lazily trailing her fingertips across the fragrant leaves of a tomato plant. Percy looked behind her, to see if one or both of her brothers were with her, but no—they were alone again. A dangerous situation, he realized, that was no less dangerous in her own home.
His heart was already pounding.
Slowly, he folded the letter back up and slipped it into the pocket of the waistcoat he had deigned to don. “It is nothing of merit.”
“If so, why have you gone so pale?”
“Have I? How strange.”
She took a step closer. “Why are you leaving, Percival?”
“Because I must,” he replied, though every fiber of his being longed to stay exactly there, in that greenhouse, with her. Even if he boiled to death. “My estate requires my supervision.”
She nodded to his waistcoat, making him aware that he still had not buttoned up his shirt to the neck. “Is that what the letter pertained to? Your estate?”
“In a manner of speaking.” It was not a complete lie. His brother was, technically, part of that. Not in any beneficial way, much to his stepmother’s outrage, but he was still a son of the deceased duke. If anything were to happen to Percy, Norman would inherit.
Anna nodded, lowering her gaze to a woodlouse that scuttled across the ground. “Well, have a good journey.” She paused. “I just came to say that I do not believe I will be able to find a match for you. Until I know the damage that has been caused by the revealing of my secret, I suspect I will not be doing much matchmaking at all. However, as my brothers now know my secret too, our bargain would be null and void anyway.”
“Perhaps, that is for the best. I did not favor Lady Joan all that much in the end,” he replied, hating the stilted air between them. “Not that it is for the best that you will not be matchmaking. In truth, I think that is a travesty.”
Anna raised her gaze. “Why so?”
“One would not ask that question if it were a mysterious, benevolent physician who had been revealed.” He smiled. “And it is always a great loss when someone loses their purpose. I do not put much faith in society, generally, but I do hope they see sense in regard to you.”
With a small nod, Anna gestured back to the other end of the greenhouse. “Well… farewell, Percival. I should not stay any longer, for if my brother were to find me here, I suspect he would not be happy.”
“What will you do with the rest of the summer?” Percy asked, rising from his chair. Anything to keep her there, for it seemed probable that he would not see her again. Not until the London season began, perhaps.
Anna shrugged. “I expect I shall read, I shall wander, and I shall visit friends.”
“I borrowed a few books of yours,” he said, approaching her. “I hope you do not mind. I will send them back to you as soon as I am done.”
She seemed surprised. Or horrified. “Youborroweda few of my books? I believe one is supposed to ask permission before one borrows anything.”
“You were not here.” Percy paused. “Well, you were not here, and then youwerehere, but I had already packed the books into my belongings.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Which books?”
“Pride and Prejudice, The Mysteries of Udolpho,andLe Morte d’Arthur.” He closed the gap between them until there was barely a step. “I thought I ought to see what all the fuss was about, and as I shall have very little to entertain me at Granville House, I expect I will have time to read them.”
