Follow the Heart (16 page)

“I suppose age and looks do not matter to Edith after all, so long as a man possesses sufficient wealth.” Florie frowned. “And while she would prefer a man with a title, I would imagine that if he has enough wealth, the title is not a requirement. For, as she is fond of reminding me, even a king can be deposed if he has no money. It is wealth, not title, she says, that truly gives a man power and status.”

“Hmm.” Kate tilted her head with a half-smile. “She would do well in Philadelphia society.” She straightened. “However, I do not wish to interfere with Lord Thynne’s courtship of Edith.”

Dorcas let out a snort Kate was certain Edith would have reprimanded her for. “You’ll be doing Lord Thynne a favor if you do.”

The carriage jostled, and Kate’s heart quickened, hoping Edith had not heard their discussion.

“Dorcas, do move over. Florence, sit up straight and pull your feet back under your skirts as much as possible.” Edith’s crimson cloak was understated compared to the green and red stripes of the skirt showing under it. Once settled, she looked across and gave a little start of surprise, as if not expecting Kate to be present. “Oh, good morning, Cousin Katharine.”

The air inside the coach seemed to crackle with the chill in Edith’s eyes. “Good morning, Cousin Ed—”

“Why are we not yet moving?” Edith leaned forward and opened the window in the door. “Footman, tell the driver we are ready.”

The coach lurched forward, nearly dislodging Kate’s feet from the hot brick—the only means of keeping the wait for Edith comfortable inside the chilly carriage. However, walking to the church would probably have been warmer than facing Edith’s cold silence.

“There should be good attendance this morning.” A nervous undertone laced Dorcas’s voice, and she gave her older sister a sidelong glance before continuing. “All of the mothers with daughters in need of a husband will be there to see Lord Thynne.”

Edith kept her face turned resolutely toward the window, her neck stiff, mouth pursed. Kate wondered if anyone had ever hinted to Edith that she lost most of her beauty with her face screwed up in petulance like that. She doubted it. And she wasn’t about to be the bearer of bad news.

To fill the time, Kate allowed Florie to draw out from her descriptions of the church she and Christopher had attended in Philadelphia.

First to enter meant last to leave, and Kate held her impatience until Florie finished adjusting her skirt and cape and climbed out. Kate took a fortifying breath and stepped down from the coach. As soon as her feet steadied on the ground, she leaned her head back to take in the full aspect of the church. A square, gray-stone tower rose into the blue sky on the left end of the building, looking like a medieval castle turret—and making the rest of the building seem to hug the ground.

“It’s Norman in design. Twelfth century.”

Kate turned. “Good morning, Uncle.”

Sir Anthony, only an inch or so taller than she, smiled and offered her his arm. The church bells echoed over the sunny countryside, and he led Kate into the church. The inside matched the outside—save that the stone walls were whitewashed and the nave at the end of the long, narrow sanctuary featured finely carved woodwork that could not possibly be as old as the rest of the building.

When Kate neared the Buchanans’ bench, her heart quickened. But it was not the sight of Lord Thynne standing with Christopher and Edith that made her pulse race. Two rows behind, she recognized the curly hair and square jaw of Andrew Lawton.

If only she could catch his eye, maybe she could somehow convey the message that she would enjoy meeting him out in the grounds this afternoon. Of course, how she could convey that without revealing just
how much
she would enjoy that meeting, she wasn’t certain.

He looked up. A slow smile spread from his lips—oh, those full, perfectly proportioned lips!—to his eyes. Kate’s pulse chimed with the church bells. Cheeks burning with pleasure, she turned and sat, but she would have sworn she could feel Andrew’s eyes on her throughout the entirety of the church service.

Taking his sketchbook with him, Andrew tried to convince himself that he only wished to work on the design of the elliptical garden he had planned for the lower part of the grounds to the west side of the house this afternoon. However, it was not the sight of that perfect plot of land that quickened his step several minutes later.

Though draped in a dark blue cape today instead of the brown he’d grown so accustomed to seeing her in, Kate’s profile quickened his heart.

At the crunch of his footsteps on the dry, brown grass, Kate turned. A smile expressing what could only be termed pure joy flashed across her face before she could school her emotions.

“Is this where the elliptical garden will go?” She turned and surveyed the plot of ground with her eyes, made more intensely bright blue by the cloak.

Her chin might be a little too pointed, her nose a bit too sharp—but to Andrew, the flaws made her all the more beautiful. Hers was a natural beauty, an effortless grace, like a flower garden where weeds could not grow and which needed no tending to produce the sweetest-smelling blooms.

Those blue eyes turned toward him again. “Mr. Lawton? Is everything all right?”

He shook himself from his thoughts, embarrassed to be caught staring at her. “Y-yes, yes, this is where the elliptical is going.” After opening his sketchbook and pulling his pencil from his coat pocket, he sketched his plan for the elaborate concentric circles of plants and shrubs and pathways he had planned. Kate asked him about two varieties of flowers he was unfamiliar with and suggested a few others he had not thought of that would fit well into the planned color scheme.

“May I?” Kate reached for the pencil. Andrew handed it over without hesitation. “What if instead of breaking up this section by putting a path through it, you divert the path here.” She sketched in the new direction that took the path around the bed in question instead of through it, connecting it to the main walkway in a much more flowing, less grid-like design.

“Brilliant. Now, why didn’t I think of that?” He glanced over and grinned at Kate. Only then did he realize they stood with shoulders touching, arms pressed together as they bent over the sketchbook. As much as it pained him to do so, he stepped away, breaking the contact.

“Here you are.”

The sketchbook fell to the ground as Andrew and Kate both jumped and turned at the man’s voice.

“Lord St—Bri—my lord.” Kate made a slight curtsy to the newcomer. Andrew bowed. So this was the viscount who had come to visit Wakesdown. The lord whose grounds were reputed to be at least four times the size of these.

“Good afternoon, Miss Dearing. I learned from your brother that you like to walk in the gardens, and I had hoped to find you before you returned to the house. So I have been walking around looking for you. And finally I came upon your path.” Lord Thynne’s gaze turned on Andrew.

“My lord, this is Mr. Andrew Lawton. He is the architect my uncle hired to redesign the gardens here at Wakesdown.”

Had that been a note of pride in Katharine Dearing’s voice as she introduced him to the viscount? Andrew inclined his head to the aristocrat. “My lord.”

“You are the young architect who apprenticed with Joseph Paxton, are you not?”

Pleasure rose in a wave of warmth from Andrew’s throat up into his face. “Yes, my lord, I am.”

“Sir Anthony seems quite pleased with the additional greenhouses and the plans you’ve drawn for the gardens. I look forward to seeing those sometime during my visit.” The viscount returned his attention to Kate before Andrew could answer. “Miss Dearing, might I entreat you to show me some of the best walking paths? You must have your favorites by now.”

While Andrew had not been certain if Kate’s tone had conveyed pride when she introduced him to the viscount, he had no doubt that he saw interest in the aristocrat’s face when he looked at her. Andrew’s stomach twisted; he had no one to blame but himself. He knew Kate Dearing’s situation, knew why she had come to England, knew himself an idiot to indulge this infatuation he felt toward her.

He used the excuse of retrieving the sketchbook from the ground to separate himself from Kate and Lord Thynne. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord, Miss Dearing, I must be getting back to my work.”

Kate turned as if to say something, her expression clearly apologetic, but Andrew walked away before she could. He had no other choice. He must walk away. He could not afford a wife, and Kate could not afford a husband like him.

“I hope I did not interrupt anything important.”

Kate dragged her attention away from Andrew’s retreating back and smiled at the viscount. “No, my lord. Mr. Lawton was simply showing me the plans he has for this plot of ground.”

With a sweeping gesture, Lord Thynne wordlessly invited her to start walking. She set her pace slower, more ladylike, than the brisk walk she usually took through the grounds.

“Are you interested in garden planning, Miss Dearing?” Lord Thynne turned up the fur-lined collar of his caped greatcoat against the wind they now walked into.

Kate pulled her arms inside her cloak. “Oh, I love gardens. But I leave the planning and tending of them up to others. I had my own few little plants at home in Philadelphia. And I enjoyed spending time in our garden. Of course, it was nowhere near as grand as this, being a city home. And you, Lord Thynne, are you interested in gardening?” She felt like an idiot, blithering on in such a manner.

He chuckled, a deep gravelly sound. “I enjoy gardens insofar that I prefer spending time outdoors. Although I find the gardens here in England to be too tame, too structured for my tastes.”

“I, too, thought that when I first arrived. However, now that I have spent time in Wakesdown’s gardens, I’ve come to discover a certain restfulness and beauty in the order and structure—” Kate swallowed the laugh that attempted to burst forth. If only Andrew could hear her now.

She turned onto the path that would take them back to the house. “Have you traveled abroad much, then?”

“In the sense of what many here would consider ‘traveling abroad’—which means in Europe—no. I spent the last ten years in Argentina overseeing my father’s properties there.”

Kate glanced up at him and tried to simper. “Argentina? Truly? How different that must be from England. If it is not rude of me to ask, what manner of properties does your father have there?”

“A cattle ranch and a cotton plantation.”

The words
cotton plantation
nearly made Kate stumble. It conjured too many images of slavery from the pamphlets and newspapers she’d read over the past few years.

“More than thirty-five years ago, when the war with Bonaparte came to an end, my father decided to put his wealth to considerable use as well as provide employment opportunities for a few hundred out-of-work sailors and soldiers returning from the front. He wanted to do it here in England, so as not to force men to leave their homeland. However, cotton is not suited to grow here, and cattle need much more land to graze than what he would have been able to attain here. It took almost two years to settle on Argentina and secure land there, and when he was ready for workers, he put advertisements in the papers in London, Plymouth, Portsmouth, Liverpool, and a few other cities. More men willing to leave England for the chance of a new life put forth their names than he could put to work at that time.” He grimaced and squinted up against the glare of the sky above. “I have a list of men waiting for a chance to go to Argentina to work, many of whom are the grown sons of men who were on my father’s list waiting for their chance.”

Kate was not only relieved to know Lord Thynne was not a slaveholder, she was amazed at the philanthropic purpose of the ventures. “After ten years there, was it hard for you to return to England?”

“Yes. But with the passing of my older brother a scant six months after my father’s death, I had no choice. My responsibility now lies here.” He glanced around, then smiled at Kate. “Well, not here, but at Greymere Hall.” He launched into a further description of his home and the changes and innovations he was bringing to it.