The Langley Sisters Collection 2

by Wendy Vella

  “I am unable to open the case without my husband, as he has hidden the key. This book is his most prized possession. He guards it zealously.”

  “From you?” Benjamin Hetherington snorted.

  “Yes, apparently I, and everyone else, cannot be trusted. It is only brought out when he is here.”

  “I-it’s beautiful,” Primrose breathed, leaning over the case as the duchess stepped back. “Look at the detail in the drawings.”

  She felt him move, and how she knew it was Benjamin Hetherington, Primrose was unsure, but seconds later his head was beside hers as he studied the book.

  Inhale, exhale, Primrose reminded herself. It was something she’d done without thinking her entire life, so why was it suddenly so difficult now?

  “His handwriting was very elegant.”

  She didn’t speak, just focused on the book and tried to shut the man out.

  “I have never seen a flower like that one, it is beautiful,” he said.

  “Nerium,” Primrose said. “It is possibly the most poisonous plant in existence. It is rather bitter, however, which stops people from eating it.”

  “And that one?”

  “One of the night flowers. They have a garden here at Rossetter .”

  “Really?

  “Yes.” Primrose nodded but didn’t look to her right. “The duchess has told me I may visit it.”

  “At night?”

  “I will take someone with me,” Primrose said quickly. She crossed her fingers behind her back. She doubted anyone would want to view the garden with her, but she was now determined to see it and may have to do so alone.

  “Did you know that it’s said Christians believe that crossing one’s fingers while lying invokes some kind of protective power of the cross to mitigate anything bad happening due to the lie?”

  “How did you know I had my fingers crossed?”

  “It seemed like something you would do. Plus, my brother does it constantly.”

  Primrose studied the book rather than saying something she may regret.

  “What is that?”

  He started questioning her again about the book and what it held on its magnificent pages.

  “You really do know a great deal about plants, don’t you?”

  “Not as much as my family, and I prefer the species that are not rare and can be easily found.”

  “So you have no wish to accompany them on their travels?”

  They were both still bent over the glass.

  “No. Even if they asked me, I would not go.”

  “They haven’t asked you?” He sounded shocked.

  “It is of no mind.” She dismissed his words, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.

  “If I apologize, will you look at me?”

  “I have no wish to discuss that… that—”

  “Kiss?”

  She gave a sharp nod that nearly had her nose hitting the glass cabinet. “Nor do I wish to converse on anything but general topics with you from this moment on.” Primrose kept her eyes on the book.

  “The pages are quite faded.”

  Mr. Sanders was bent to her left now.

  “It’s extremely old. This is the only copy of this book in existence.”

  “One of my husband’s ancestors had a fixation about botany, and it was he who paid an exorbitant sum for this book,” the duchess said.

  “It’s magnificent,” Primrose breathed.

  “Excellent. Well, I shall try to get my husband to let you actually hold it, but I can promise nothing as he’s foolishly protective of it. Always rabbiting on about it being highly sought and he will not have it stolen. We have all kinds of people visiting just to see it. Some have offered ridiculous sums of money, but it will never leave Rossetter while my husband is still breathing.”

  “I completely understand,” Primrose said, reluctantly straightening. With a last look at the magnificent book, she turned away. “Thank you so much for this honor. I have long been enamored with The History Of Plants. Lucian Clipper was a revolutionary and before his time in some of his philosophies.”

  “I’m so pleased you enjoyed it. And I hope you will view my night flowers blooming before you leave Rossetter .”

  “I certainly will, thank you.”

  “And now we are to have a light repast under the trees on the west side of the terrace. Then we will go into Twoaks to watch the boat race.”

  Primrose didn’t want to watch boat races, she wanted to wander through the gardens, but knew Lady Jane would not allow that.

  “Are you to race in a boat, Hetherington?”

  “I believe so, Sanders, and you?”

  The man shuddered. “No indeed. I am a peaceful type of fellow.” He then wandered off with the duchess, leaving Primrose with Benjamin Hetherington.

  Hollyhocks!

  “Hard to believe they used to clunk down these halls in armor.”

  “Is there an armory here?” Primrose leapt on the topic, as it was in no way personal or intimate like that kiss had been.

  “There is, and it has quite the display. You shall have to view it, Miss Ainsley.”

  “Perhaps I will.”

  “Will you watch the boat racing, Primrose?”

  “If I have to, and I think it better you call me Miss Ainsley.”

  “I shall try. What did you mean by ‘have to’?”

  “I am not really one for lolling about all day watching men do things I cannot… or more importantly, am not allowed to do.”

  He’d shortened his stride to match hers, and Primrose realized he was in fact a great deal taller than her. She’d never really taken the time to notice that in other men before. The hands he swung at his side as he walked would engulf both hers. Strong hands, hands that would keep whatever they held safe.

  “Would you like to enter the boat race, then?”

  “As a woman, I don’t think that’s an option, do you?”

  “But if it were, would you?”

  Primrose thought about that as they walked down the long hallway.

  “I think I would. I like to do things that challenge me. Painting and sewing don’t really do that.”

  “But gardening does?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Perhaps we could dress you as a man when no one is looking, and you can join the boat race.”

  She shot him a look and found his eyes on her. Primrose looked away.

  “I’m not entirely sure why you are doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  “The teasing, the… ah, the kiss, and all of it. If you are simply having fun at my expense because you can, then I beg you to cease, as it is not fun on my part. There are also plenty of young ladies here who would be more than happy with your attentions. Young, well-bred women who will simper and smile and tell you how wonderful you are.”

  “But not you.” His words were deep and had lost their levity.

  “Not me.”

  “And maybe that’s why I seek you out, Miss Ainsley. You’re different.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m bland—well, so my brother says—and a woman who is attempting to get through her first, and God willing, only season without attracting the attentions of a man.”

  “An extremely difficult thing to do when you are spirited, beautiful, and interesting. I fear your brother has it wrong; you are in no way bland.”

  “I am none of those things, nor do I wish to be.”

  “You are, but that point will be discussed another day. Perhaps we could help each other?”

  He stopped, wrapping his fingers around her arm. A shaft of sunlight came through the window behind him, burnishing his hair, making it appear as if he wore a halo. The man did not need divine intervention to make him any more appealing.

  “We each have no wish to wed or draw interest from men or women. Perhaps instead if we showed interest in each other, the others, and I include my family and Lady Jane in that, would leave us alone.”

  “But if we are seen together,
people will talk.”

  “True, but as you have no wish to live in society, you could easily decide against our furthering our acquaintance and walk away at the end of this. I will say there is no ill will between us, or something along those lines.”

  He did not look as if he was playing some kind of game. Could she do that? It would mean she could go home after the season and stay there.

  “It is not quite that easy for a woman to walk away unscathed,” Primrose said.

  “We shall be seen chatting a few times, no more than that.”

  “I shall think about it” was all Primrose said as she started walking again.

  “You do that, and remember your wish, Primrose. Marriage to Herbert the Honorable. That is what you still want, after all?”

  Was it? Yes, Primrose told herself. Of course it was. Walking back to her room to get her bonnet, she wondered why she had a niggle of doubt now.

  Chapter Nine

  Benjamin wasn’t sure why he’d proposed what he had to Primrose, but he did know one thing. The woman intrigued him like no other had before her. While he would never act on that, it would be enjoyable to spend some time with her. He had no wish for her to have feelings for him, and as she wanted to marry Herbert there was little risk of that happening.

  Ben had come to the realization long ago that women were to be watched carefully, as they could turn on you as quick as a venomous snake. His mother had taught him that.

  Yes, he had wonderful sisters-in-law, but he wasn’t married to them, so they couldn’t really hurt him… maybe his brothers, but he doubted that would happen.

  It was actually a sound idea to spend time with Primrose and deter his sisters-in-law from the quest to see him married for a while. Yet when the season ended, wouldn’t he be right back where he started, with Phoebe and Hannah still trying to find him a wife? But he could surely cry a broken heart for a while, which would give him more time without them hurling unmarried young woman into his path.

  After visiting his room, Ben made his way down to the front entrance of Rossetter House. He found Alex there.

  “What are you doing down here?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  “How did you know I was coming down?”

  Alex raised a brow.

  “Right, that thing happened.”

  The “thing,” as they referred to it, was simply something they’d always had. A knowledge that sometimes just popped into their heads that the other was close, or soon would be. Strange? Definitely, but as it was just a part of their lives, they lived with it.

  “Where is your wife? You are not usually separated for long.”

  “Resting. She is tired, and there is the dance this evening.”

  “Hannah, tired?” Ben raised a brow. The woman had inexhaustible energy.

  “She is to have a child, Ben.”

  “I know that, Alex. Her stomach gives her away.”

  “I told her to rest, actually. Hannah does tend to overdo things.”

  “Of course, and you are worried, which I’m sure is entirely natural. Each time Phoebe carried a child, Finn was frantic.”

  “Oh God,” Alex groaned. “I remember and vowed never to be that way.”

  “But you will be.” Ben patted his brother on the shoulder. “Come, a walk into Two Oaks for the annual boat race will make you feel better.”

  “Yes, I need a distraction.”

  “Do we have a boat?”

  “I believe some of the locals have supplied them for us. Archery is planned for tomorrow.”

  “Yes, I heard that also.”

  “I will beat you as I always do.”

  “No, you don’t!”

  “More often than not.”

  “Rubbish. I always beat you and will continue to do so with very little effort on my part.”

  “What are you arguing about now?”

  “Thea, how lovely to see you at last,” Ben said, kissing her cheek. Married to Ace, she was the duke’s and Will Ryder’s sister. She’d wanted to marry Oliver Dillinger, and nothing, not even his lack of rank or birth and her exceptional one, had stopped that from happening. Unlike Ace, who was big and raw boned, Thea looked every inch the duke’s daughter, with pale, flawless skin, and a haughty arch to her brow. She could have married any man but chose the one she loved.

  “Yes, I am pleased to be out of my sickbed, I can tell you. Ace tends to hover if I’m unwell. As it was only morning sickness I was not in danger, but you cannot tell the man that.”

  “He loves you,” Alex said, looking pale suddenly.

  “Yes, that’s all very well, but a large man like that hovering constantly tends to agitate me more than soothe.”

  “And yet I will continue to do so, my love.”

  “Hello, darling. I was just telling the twins about your annoying habit of hovering.”

  “I heard,” Ace drawled, coming to his beloved’s side. “And still I will not change.”

  Thea huffed out a breath, but slipped her arm through her husband’s and moved closer to his side.

  “Are you coming to watch the boat race?” Alex said.

  “Of course, my foolish husband is competing.”

  “You taught me to swim,” Ace added.

  “But not that well yet.”

  “I’ll save him if he falls in,” Alex said.

  Beneath the trees, large tables had been set with chairs and plenty of food and drink. A lovely setting on a sunny day, with Rossetter at their backs, it would take a hardened heart not to appreciate it. Ben looked for Primrose and found her talking with Mr. Sanders.

  “You may have competition there, Ben,” Ace said.

  “Sanders?” Alex scoffed. “My brother is worth ten of him. Not that he’s interested in Miss Ainsley, but if he was—”

  “I’m unsure if I’m interested or not, but if I am that is my decision, thank you very much.”

  Alex’s eyes settled on his face.

  “But you could be?”

  Ben shrugged. “I don’t know yet.” He left it at that. If Primrose agreed, then he had set things in motion. If not, he would say nothing further.

  After yet more food, they began the walk into Two Oaks. Primrose was just ahead of him, still with Mr. Sanders, which shouldn’t have annoyed Ben as much as it did. At least they had two other ladies accompanying them.

  “Oh, Miss Ainsley, how are you finding your first season?” he heard Miss Hellier ask.

  “Very well, thank you.”

  “But it must be something of a challenge, after all, considering your years….”

  Ben heard the insult just as the others did. Primrose murmured something in reply that he didn’t catch.

  “And what of your family, are they to join you, Miss Ainsley?” Miss Robbins added. “Or will you be spending the entire season with the gracious Lady Jane?”

  He’d been in society long enough to hear the innuendos in the words of those young women. People rarely spoke to him that way, and hearing it made the reality of Primrose’s situation clearer. He thought about intervening, as obviously Sanders was oblivious to what was happening, but then would she appreciate that? Likely not.

  “Oh, Mr. Hetherington, is it not an exciting prospect?”

  Miss Fullerton Smythe had moved to his side.

  “What is exciting, Miss Fullerton Smythe?” Ben watched Primrose fall back slightly away from the group she’d been with, so she was now walking in front of him, alone.

  “The boat race, of course!”

  Pretty in pale lemon, Miss Fullerton Smythe wore a chip bonnet and white gloves and left him cold. Strange how that was the case, when with one look at the rigid back before him he felt anything but cold.

  “Ah yes, of course. It should be fun.”

  She then chattered on about anything and a great deal of nothing, starting with the weather; he was soon bored enough to yawn. At least he could keep his eyes on that long blonde ringlet that trailed down Primrose’s spine. Was she upset?
>
  “Miss Fullerton Smythe, do you have a passion, such as books or plants?”

  “A passion, Mr. Hetherington?” She pulled away from him slightly as if she was preparing to flee. He’d clearly shocked her.

  “Something that excites you. I like steam engines.” Ben wasn’t sure why he had spoken those words, but it was too late to retract them now.

  “Oh, well.” She first looked left and then right. “Do you really wish to hear?”

  “I do. Who are you checking for?”

  “My mother. She has fiendishly sharp hearing, especially when listening to my conversations.”

  “And you don’t want her to hear this one?”

  “You asked a question of me, Mr. Hetherington, and not about the weather, so I would like to give you an honest answer.”

  “Please do.”

  “Your interest is steam engines, which I’m sure are intriguing, but mine is wood carving.”

  Ben was sure she held her breath while waiting for his reaction.

  “Really? How intriguing.” He managed to keep the surprise out of his voice.

  “It is.” She exhaled. Her face lost that silly, girlish, simpering expression as she talked, and her voice even lowered to a normal pitch. “The trick is to find the right wood to use. I have many pieces in my rooms. Mother won’t let me bring them downstairs… nor carve them anywhere but in my rooms or out in the stables.”

  “How does one go about getting just the right piece of wood?” Ben said, genuinely interested. He wondered if under those gloves there were several nicks and scratches on her hands. It was a very unusual hobby for a young lady.

  “Well, I am not as skilled as I would like to be—”

  “Yet,” Ben qualified.

  “Yet.” She smiled. “I have found oak to be the best to work with.” Miss Fullerton Smythe then launched into a full and detailed explanation that kept him interested until they were close to Two Oaks.

  “Thank you for sharing your passion with me, Miss Fullerton Smythe.”

  “Thank you for listening, Mr. Hetherington.”

  “Your secret is safe with me. May I offer you some advice?”

  “Of course.” She looked up at him, and he saw she was genuinely interested in what he was about to say.

  “Never give up your wood carving, as it obviously makes you very happy.”