“Here we are then,” he said, somewhat obviously, and then hopped down.
Mouse jumped from the back and sat next to the cart, waiting for Dawn.
Dawn climbed down, and as soon as her feet hit the ground a vibration ran up through her legs. She expected to collapse from exhaustion after the long and taxing day, but the tingle raced through her bones and left her refreshed.
The garden called to her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling its unique fragrance. A hint of heady jasmine was overlaid with the rich aroma of composting leaves, and a sharp bite of a note she couldn’t identify. She opened her eyes. The little that was visible from between house and stables appeared ramshackle, overgrown and, in some places, dead. Yet there must have once been order before the chaos. Once this would have been a grand estate, but some tragedy must have befallen it for the garden to become so neglected.
5
A gangly youth appeared from the stables and approached. He seemed stuck in that awkward phase where he was not yet a man but he had left adolescence behind. From watching the children next door grow, Dawn placed this specimen somewhere around seventeen or eighteen. He had shot up like a bean sprout to his adult height, but he hadn’t yet acquired the bulk or muscle of later years.
His eyes widened on seeing Dawn, then a shy smile lit his face. He wore pale trousers and a linen shirt with a grey waistcoat over the top. He had a piece of hay stuck in his dark hair and grey horse hair dusted his waistcoat.
“That’s master Elijah, the earl’s nephew,” Hector said from beside her.
Another new person to meet and someone else who would expect her to converse intelligently. Dawn had thought the role of gardener would be a solitary one; she never considered the practical implications of a large estate with family and staff.
Dawn swallowed her nervousness and snatched up the orchid as a talisman. She told herself the young gentleman was another of her father’s boring business dinners and held out her hand. “Miss Uxbridge, the new gardener.”
Elijah shook her hand with a gentle touch. “Gosh, a woman.” Then he remembered his manners and added, “A pleasure to meet you.”
Any other comment he might have made was cut off when a man appeared in a doorway at the bottom of the end wing. He slammed the solid door behind him, and Elijah jumped back as though not wanting to be caught too close to her. An aura of a bad mood surrounded the newcomer as he strode across the courtyard. A dark navy frock coat billowed out behind him, caught on an unseen wind.
“Lord Seton, the earl,” Hector whispered from the corner of his mouth while his attention stayed straight ahead.
Dawn clutched the orchid closer with one hand while her other found Mouse’s head at her side. Her fingers curled into his fur to stop her from bolting as the storm cloud bore down on them.
The earl wasn’t tall but what Dawn would describe as imposing. With broad shoulders, he seemed more coal miner than lord of a manor. He was also far younger than Dawn envisioned. She had hoped to find a grey-haired man of advanced years with failing eyesight and difficulty hearing. Lord Seton seemed to be in his late twenties.
His face was rectangular, with a square jaw and distinct cheekbones. Unruly dark brown hair contained a myriad of russet hues. It was cut longer than was fashionable and tried to curl around his ears. Eyes of a clear grey stared at her as he came to a halt. Then his gaze slid downward slightly to glare at the orchid. Dawn wasn’t sure which offended him most, her or the flower.
“This will not do. You’re a woman.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Deep furrows carved themselves into his forehead.
Dawn experienced a moment of relief to have her deception finally exposed to her employer. No longer did she have to fret, because the moment had arrived. A brief euphoria at surviving so far rushed through her mind, and with both orchid and wolfhound to protect her, Dawn did something she had never done before in her life. She spoke out of turn.
“Yes I am. As Hector has already observed.”
Her anxiety at the arrival of the earl was supplanted by annoyance. She began to wonder about the intelligence of country folk. Were women so rare that they had to be remarked upon? Perhaps the mountains in Cumberland made the air too thin for proper brain function.
The earl’s eyes narrowed further, and the frown deepened into a furrow she could plant potatoes in. As seconds flitted past, they whittled away Dawn’s fledgling bravery. The solid ground under her feet shifted as though she now stood on quicksand that would devour her if she made a wrong move. In hindsight, perhaps she should have either kept quiet or thrown herself upon his mercy.
She twisted a finger in another tuft of Mouse’s fur and tightened her grip on the orchid, and then tried again with a more conciliatory approach. “I understood the position was for a skilled gardener in general, not a man in particular.”
Lord Seton tensed his arms, the fabric of his sleeves shifting over unseen muscles, and his full lips tightened. “You were obviously deceptive on your application, and as such, I cannot extend employment to you. Hector will return you to town, and you can await a train back to Whetstone.”
She bit her lip to hold back her cry of no. Dreams of sculpting a large estate crashed down around her. She couldn’t leave. Even the most citified person couldn’t fail to see that the manor needed her. Here was a garden in desperate need of a woman’s gentle touch to breathe new life into the grounds.
All her life Dawn had listened to her elders and done as instructed. But if she left now, not only would she never know what she could achieve, she would be homeless. If ever there was a time to stand up for something, it was now. Although she had only known the large dog at her side for the briefest time, she was grateful for the sense of strength he lent her. She refused to turn tail and skulk away.
Dawn imagined herself a tree, with roots extending deep into the soil beneath her feet. She would be a willow. Let the earl blow and bluster at her. Her supple limbs would bend and sway, but she would hold her place. Keeping the image in mind, she stood a little taller.
“I was not deceptive, my lord. You assumed I was a man, yet I have made no such assertion. Furthermore, your advertisement stated I would be judged on the strength of my design, not the weakness of my sex. It appears you were the deceptive one.”
Dawn couldn’t believe she said such impertinent words. He would probably fire her now for being rude and uppity. Then she recalled the doctor’s advice. Don’t let Jasper bully you. It was highly improper to think of him by his Christian name, but doing so made the force before her a smidgen less intimidating.
Never before had she refused a command, spoken out of turn, or been disrespectful of a nobleman’s position. The journey must have sapped more energy than she realised and she wasn’t thinking straight. Her parents would be horrified if they heard her speak in such a manner.
But she couldn’t let the opportunity slip through her fingers. The neglected garden tugged at her as though she were on a string. There were dark corners to be explored and secrets to learn. Here, she and the garden might together bloom with life.
Lord Seton stared at her for such a long time she wondered if he had been turned into a statue. He didn’t blink or even twitch. She had to concentrate to even see the rise and fall of breath within his torso.
Mouse edged closer until his muzzle was almost buried in her skirts. The dog’s large skull was at waist height, and he sniffed at the orchid on her hip. If the earl tried to physically evict her, she would leap on Mouse’s back to escape. That set her to wondering if she could ride a running wolfhound and keep hold of the orchid.