“You contained yourself well,” Rohan told Toby when they were once again in their chamber.
“I just didn’t know anything like that existed,” Toby said in awe.
Rohan didn’t say a word. Later, he turned his back until Toby was tucked into the truckle bed beside his bed. He was damned if he’d share a bed with a boy who probably flailed his way through the night.
“Oh, yes,” Rohan said as he blew out the single candle. “There’s a lot that you will learn exists. We will ease you into it gradually. Then when we’re in London, I’ll show you marvels that will leave you blank-brained. Why, we’ll even go to Astley’s.”
He couldn’t believe he’d made that offer. He scorned people who went to that vulgar place. But children adored the animal performances, and there were oranges to eat and candied almonds, and scantily clad girls who rode on the backs of horses. Ah, so much.
He could always send Pulver with the children. Yes, that was an excellent idea. That would serve gaunt-faced Pulver right for trying to stick his nose in the baron’s business.
“Sleep well, my lord,” Toby said.
Rohan grunted.
Thank the gods, no one sickened during the night, and they were on their way the following morning.
The weather held until they reached the Pilsney Hills, the highest of which overlooked Mountvale House. Rohan jumped down from the carriage seat and opened the door. “Everyone out. I want you to see my home. It’s really quite lovely, what with the Channel beyond and the smell of the sea in the air.”
It was lovely, Susannah thought, easing Marianne to the ground so she could walk with Toby to the peak of the hill.
Mountvale House sat atop a gentle flat-topped hill a mile in the distance. It was surrounded by maple and oak trees. Only one road wound its way to the house from the west, and it was thickly lined with trees and bushes. She knew that in the summer the trees would meet over the road to make a canopy. It would be incredibly beautiful. As for the house itself, it wasn’t a vast mansion, tall and imposing, standing in the middle of nothing in a huge, grassy park. No, it was old, perhaps three hundred years or so, and its worn peach bricks were covered with thick green ivy. There was only a narrow front lawn lined with yew bushes. On all other sides there were gardens filled with more flowers than Susannah had ever seen in one place in her life. The gardens weren’t flat and separated by hedges either. No, each of them was terraced until it nearly reached the edge of the forest. There were fences there, to keep out deer and other animals who would consume many of the plants in an instant. On the fences was jasmine that draped over and around, with small white and pink flowers. There were roses aplenty, blooming wildly, yellow daffodils, tulips as red as a stormy sunset, lilacs from the lightest lavender to the darkest purple, and so many other flowers and shrubs that it took Susannah’s breath away.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, ignoring the house, gazing fixedly at the terraced gardens. “In the middle of summer, it must be breathtaking.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Rohan said, completely indifferent. “Actually, there are few flowers at my house in London. Here, though, I have an army of gardeners. My mother wishes to have the house surrounded by greenery and color.” He added as he flicked a nonexistent piece of lint from his jacket, “If you like you can give them advice, since my mother is abroad. You can direct them. If you want, you can even grovel in the dirt alongside them. I had the gardens terraced some four years ago. My mother wished it so.”
“Do you ever grovel alongside the gardeners?”
He arched an elegant brow at her. “Hardly. I am not a gardener.”
“Even though you did it for your mother, your selection of plants, the building of the gardens—it’s all superb. I imagine that in July and August the house disappears. All the eye can see is bright and vivid color.” She turned to look up at him, a quite lovely smile on her mouth. “Someday perhaps your mother will design a garden for me.”
“You can ask that of my mother when you meet her,” he said slowly. He looked down again at his sleeve, saying, “Old Cupability Brown gave her a good deal of fodder for designs. As I said, I did her bidding and carried everything out.”
“His name is Capability, isn’t it?”
He just grinned down at her.
Her face was radiant. She clutched at his sleeve. “Oh, thank you. To work in those beautiful gardens—I should like that above all things. But isn’t that a rather tame sort of activity for a man of your nature?”
Actually, he thought, cursing himself, he didn’t know any gentleman of his reputed nature to be even remotely interested in gardens, regardless of whether or not his mama had inspired the idea. He said easily, “A man should have many parts, I’ve always believed. Now what do you mean, ‘my nature’?”
She had the grace to flush just a bit and shrugged, “It’s nothing, really.”
“Ah, you were being impertinent?”
“Well, you are well known for wildness, aren’t you? Just as were your parents?”
“You told me that George said this.”
“Yes, and—Marianne! No! Toby, catch her!”
She was off at a dead run, Jamie chasing behind her. Gulliver, curse the bugger, was running after Jamie.
Rohan raised his face to the sky. “My life was perfect just four days ago. Why, Lord?”
Then he sprinted after his horse.