The interior of the Alcott greenhouses were, if possible, even more beautiful than the outside gardens. Rosalie lost herself in the intoxicating scent of oleander and hibiscus, lily of the valley, amaryllis. The smaller of the two houses was dedicated to growing exotic flowers, while the larger contained a dizzying array of fruiting trees and succulent vegetables.
The moisture in the air curled the fine hairs at the nape of her neck.
“And of course, in winter we move the oranges back indoors,” the duchess said, gesturing through the glass.
Rosalie spied a row of potted orange trees happily soaking in the autumn sun.
“Do you grow no pineapples, Your Grace?” said the marchioness.
“I’ve discussed plans with my son to build an addition which would serve as a pinery,” the duchess replied. “They’re sourcing a new style of glass from Florence.”
Rosalie stifled a groan. Imagine a world where good people worked their backs to the breaking in the pursuit of farming, and here stood a group of ladies in their morning diamonds discussing the construction of a building that would exclusively grow pineapples for one family to consume.
“What makes you frown, Miss Harrow?” Lady Elizabeth was watching her with a catlike grin. She smiled, her pink lips parting around tiny, straight teeth. “Oh, I hope it’s something scandalous, for I do believe you are blushing.”
“I’m just a bit overheated—”
“Ugh, and is it any wonder? I hope this abominable tour ends soon.” Elizabeth looped her arm in with Rosalie’s and slowed their steps, letting the group move down the row of ornamental lemon trees. Then she leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Tell me what you think of the gentlemen, Miss Harrow.”
Now Rosalie was blushing. “I…don’t know them well enough to make out a character,” she replied.
“You coy thing,” Elizabeth laughed. “You sat next to the lieutenant at dinner last night. And the maids say you arrived at Alcott with Mr. Burke.”
Rosalie fought the urge to scowl. So, the servants were gossiping about her? She should have known. The walls had eyes and ears here, she had to remember that. “I don’t—”
The younger sister suddenly pressed in on Rosalie’s other side. “Did you ask her?”
“She was just answering, Mariah,” Elizabeth replied with a huff.
Both girls turned their bright green eyes back to Rosalie.
“I don’t know the lieutenant,” Rosalie admitted. “Not after one dinner. I spent more of the evening conversing with the curate—”
“I don’t give a fig about a married old curate,” Elizabeth huffed again, pulling on Rosalie’s arm to lead her away from the main group back down the row of lemon trees. “What about His Grace? Or Lord James?”
Rosalie couldn’t help but laugh. “I haven’t spoken two words to His Grace—”
“Our maid said you swooned, and Mr. Burke caught you,” Mariah pressed. “What can you say of him?”
“I most certainly did not.” She was about to ask for the name of the maid, but Elizabeth dragged her down onto the bench and spoke across her with a glare at her sister.
“No, Mariah, not him. Mama said he’s quite out of the question.”
“Oh, right,” Mariah giggled.
This had Rosalie’s frustration rising even higher. It was one thing to know Mr. Burke might be treated differently, but it was quite another to see it for herself. Why should he be the social pariah?
Elizabeth let out a coo of delight. “Ohhh, speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”
Two of the gentlemen in question were striding toward them. Rosalie swallowed her flutter of excitement as Lieutenant Renley and Mr. Burke locked eyes on her first. It was too soon since the library to see them again. She wasn’t ready. Their narrowed gazes had heat pooling inside her.
Elizabeth and Mariah shot to their feet, smoothing down their skirts.
“Good morning, ladies,” Mr. Burke said.
“Good morning Mr. Burke, Lieutenant Renley,” Elizabeth replied, her voice inexplicably breathier than moments before.
Her sister echoed her curtsy, a blush warming her freckled cheeks.
Mr. Burke glanced over his shoulder at the lieutenant. “Tom, didn’t you have something for…”
Lieutenant Renley stepped forward. “Ah, yes. Miss Harrow, we spoke of those books on astral navigation. I thought you might find this one diverting.” He held out a small, leather-bound book.
Two sets of envious eyes bored into the back of Rosalie’s head. She had quite literally no idea what he was on about, for she’d never spoken the words ‘astral’ or ‘navigation’ aloud in her life. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” she murmured, her fingers brushing his as they closed around the book.
“How very thoughtful of you, Lieutenant,” Elizabeth said, standing so close to Rosalie that their shoulders rubbed. “Isn’t it thoughtful, Mariah?”
“So thoughtful,” Mariah parroted.
“You three seem to be lost little lambs,” said Mr. Burke. “The rest of the flock has quite gotten away from you.”
The Swindon sisters both smiled.
“Was it by accident or design? Are we interrupting some secret meeting?”
“Of course not,” Elizabeth cried.
“Pity,” Mr. Burke replied. “Only the lemons shall know if you’ve been confiding secrets of the heart. I won’t let Renley pry any further on the subject.”
The Swindons both giggled.
Rosalie glanced at the lieutenant. His mouth was set in a firm line and his ocean blue eyes held little mirth. Prying into the sisters’ secrets seemed to be the last desire of his heart.
“Miss Harrow,” Mr. Burke said, “shall we rejoin the others?”
She nodded, looping her hand around the arm he offered. Elizabeth preened as Lieutenant Renley took her arm, forcing Mariah to walk behind.
“Sorry about that,” Mr. Burke murmured, lowering his head slightly to speak in Rosalie’s confidence. “I needed to test a theory. Thanks for being a good sport.”
“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” she replied, trying to let her hand relax on the soft wool of his morning coat.
“Your footman is safe,” he whispered. “I’ve already spoken with James.”
Rosalie heaved a sigh of relief. “You’re sure?”
He nodded, his mouth tipping into a grin. “And now that I’ve held up my end of our bargain, it is time for you to hold up yours.”
So soon? Surely, he couldn’t have thought of an appropriate favor in the span of a single hour. She tried to swallow her anxiety. “What would you have me do, sir?”
He chuckled. “First, I think we’ll have you dispense with calling me ‘sir.’ If we are to be intimate friends, I think we can drop the honorifics.”
She groaned. “Please stop placing the word ‘intimate’ before each utterance of ‘friend’…or I shall start to think you have the wrong idea about me, sir.”
He laughed. “I am only using your word, Miss Harrow—”
“Well, stop it,” she hissed.
He chuckled again. “I said I’d not compromise your unimpeachable honor, and I meant it. But I really would prefer you to address me more informally.”
“What do you wish me to call you? I don’t know your Christian name…”
“No, you wouldn’t know it, would you? I hate my Christian name and never use it. It’s become my most closely guarded secret,” he mused. “Everyone in my acquaintance just calls me ‘Burke.’”
She chanced to look up at him, wanting to see his expression. It was playful but guarded. He’d clearly donned a full suit of armor since leaving the library. Could she blame him when a duchess, a marchioness, and a countess stood not fifteen feet away? And all their daughters flitted about, desperate to ignore him while throwing themselves at his friends. It was enough to have any man seeking a place to stand well out of the fray.
“Now about that favor you owe me…”
“What can you possibly need of me that you cannot accomplish on your own?”
“You’ve hit the target with your first arrow. I cannot do it myself because your favor to me is to convincingly flirt with Tom.”
She stopped in the middle of the path. She was torn between jerking her hand away or digging her claws into his arm. “You said you’d not compromise me.”
“I only mean I want you to flirt with him in front of the others…and let him flirt with you,” he explained. “You know as well as I what Tom is looking for in a wife. He needs to bag one of these ladies with a fortune. Now, he’s a bit out of practice with flirting—hazard of the sailor life—but he clearly enjoys flirting with you.”
She had to fight the urge to react. It was one thing to think something in her head…it was quite another to get confirmation of it. Tom Renley was flirting with her.
“So, let Tom flirt with you where the others can see it,” Mr. Burke went on. “If the others think you’ve caught his eye, it will spur them into action.”
She understood his logic. She was to be bait, luring the other more desirable ladies in. What she didn’t understand was why her first reaction was to be offended. Sure, he was gorgeous and charming, and she felt a natural sense of ease in his presence…nothing like the fire and frustration so quickly fueled by Mr. Burke. But Rosalie didn’t want Lieutenant Renley for herself. May he marry Elizabeth and be very happy with his new fortune.
She did not want him for herself.
Absolutely not.
Still…she gave herself a moment to feel the sharp sting of rejection.
They were coming upon the rest of the group. The duchess turned to take them in, arched brows raised. The other noble ladies flanked behind her, watching them approach with a mix of excitement, curiosity, and open suspicion. Rosalie had not thought of that difficulty. Mr. Burke was asking rather a lot. Flirting openly with the lieutenant would put Rosalie into the line of fire of these monstrous mamas and their desperate daughters. Did she have the strength to withstand them? Was the security of one footman worth all this trouble?
And what of her promise to the duchess to spy on the ladies? How could she possible help both the duchess and the lieutenant? The mission of one party would put her at odds with the other…
“Well, Miss Harrow?” Mr. Burke said. “Will you hold to our deal and help me?”
Just then, Lady Olivia sneered at her from behind her plumed feather fan and Rosalie’s resolve hardened into stone.
“Very well,” she murmured. “I will help you…Burke,” she added with a smile. It felt daring to take such a liberty, but his echoing smile pleased her. A secret part of her felt excited to lead these ladies on a merry chase. “I’ll help you help the lieutenant.”
“Excellent,” he replied. “With you at my side, we’ll have Tom batting away the other ladies with a stick.”
