But then she saw shadows inside and heard voices coming her way. Just as she took two steps back, there was a click and a snap before the door opened to reveal her husband and a short, round man laughing.
Her mouth hung open at the sound of her husband’s laughter, for it was a sound that surprised her more than she had expected. It was a deep chuckle all the way from his chest, but sweet and tender. The sound drew her forward, and for a second there, she was upset that it was cut short.
“Duchess.”
The two men stared at her skeptically.
Forcing herself to straighten, Georgiana felt an awkwardness creeping through them on the roof. She hastily nodded, looking for a way to fix it. “Good afternoon, Duke, Sir. I… I’m terribly sorry to have interrupted your conversation.”
The round man touched his thick mustache and eyed them carefully. He didn’t look any friendlier than her husband did.
“It’s over now.” Owen started to fix the sleeves he had since rolled up. Half of her worried she would find him undressed if she came upon him a fourth time today. “Don’t you have enough redecorating to keep you off the roof?”
She waved a hand in the air. “I’ve done what I can today. I thought I might stretch my legs. Besides, I’m still not familiar with the greenhouse, and I must admit to my curiosity. I would so love to see what you two were working on. If I promise not to touch anything, might I be offered a tour?”
Any softness or friendliness in the Duke’s demeanor evaporated at her question. Every bit of him hardened as he gave her a stern look.
“This is my greenhouse,” he reminded her. “I said you can have the rest of the property. But this is dirty and––”
“––dirty and dangerous, I know.” She glanced at the gardener, who looked surprised that she had cut her husband.
To be certain, Owen stared at her as well, and she was confused now. But she carried on regardless.
“But the best way I can manage the house is to know every square inch of it, even the spaces I am meant to avoid down the line.”
Owen narrowed his eyes at her. “Where else have you been?”
“Everywhere but here.” She lifted her chin. “You said I have my freedom, remember?”
“Yes, your freedom to be everywhere but here.”
Resisting the urge to groan took every ounce of her strength. “I already promised not to touch anything, Your Grace. Even if I did, it doesn’t mean I would ruin anything of yours.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“Have I ruined anything of yours thus far?”
“No, but––”
She spoke over him. “Then surely you do not mean to be judgmental or skeptical of me, since there is no reason to believe such a thing.”
While she stared down her husband, the gardener shifted uncomfortably between them.
“I don’t mean to steal your time, Duke. I would hate to be a bother. Perhaps your gardener here may show me around if you are busy?”
Although Owen didn’t like her suggestion, he evidently couldn’t find any way out of this.
It was difficult for Georgiana not to feel proud of herself. Her husband didn’t wish to insult her or scold her, especially not in front of a servant.
He was considering her request. He might even grant it. What would that mean for them? She asked herself that question, trying not to dream of the impossible while planning for something special.
“Fine.” The Duke glanced at the gardener. “Davies, show her around. Keep it quick. The sun will set soon.”
“Er, yes, Your Grace.”
Georgiana beamed, watching her husband stalk off. He disappeared out the door before she could thank him. Then she turned to the gardener—Davies—who didn’t look very pleased with his new task.
Smirking, she straightened up. She was determined to win her husband over. If the greenhouse meant so much to him, then surely the gardener had to be respectable as well.
