Romancing the Heiress(22)
Author: Darcy Burke

 

“He is a bit insufferable, isn’t he?”

 

“I would say more than a bit.” Phin cracked a smile, and they parted as the others came out of the folly.

 

Mr. Mercer moved toward Leah. “You aren’t interested in the temple, Miss Webster?”

 

“I’ve seen every nook and cranny more times than I can count. I spent my childhood running about these gardens.”

 

“How charming.” He swung his walking stick gently as they strolled toward the next folly, a round temple with pillars and a domed roof. “The one up ahead is rather large.”

 

“Large enough to set up a half dozen tables for games or food on a rainy day. It’s quite useful for when the weather spoils a picnic.” Leah thought about Mr. Mercer’s queries the day before. She hadn’t discussed that with him when they’d danced last night, but after seeing Phin’s irritation today, she wondered if she might learn more. “How is your investigation into Marrywell’s festival going?”

 

Mr. Mercer laughed. “I wouldn’t call it an investigation.”

 

“Wouldn’t you?” Leah asked as she looked over at his profile. His nose didn’t have a bump like hers, but it was on the long side. “Your questioning of Phin yesterday was perhaps intrusive.”

 

“I didn’t mean for it to be. I’m afraid my business sensibilities take over sometimes.” His face creased into a brief but pained grimace. “I see so much potential for profit here. It’s hard to see it wasted.”

 

“That’s your perspective, I suppose. Phin would rather not profit off his fellow Marrywellers.”

 

“Except it seems he’d be profiting more off those visiting from out of town. From talking to the mayor, I gleaned that this festival has grown nearly fivefold in the past ten years alone.”

 

Leah hadn’t realized it was that much, but she noticed a marked difference in the seven years she’d been absent. And that increase was due to people attending from outside Marrywell. Probably from London and Bath. People who could afford to pay admittance to the gardens. Or to a variety of things and places. The brewer’s field came to mind. Some of the brewers charged fees for ale samples—typically their finest recipes. But what if they all did? And what if Phin charged a fee to enter the enclosure? Plenty of those who overimbibed had trampled flowers or caused other trouble. Perhaps it made sense to ask them to pay. Leah didn’t think that would keep people from drinking the ale. If anything, it might keep them from becoming quite so drunk.

 

“Since Radford is your friend, you should talk to him,” Mr. Mercer said. “No one’s coffers are too full.”

 

While Phin was her friend, Leah didn’t think he wanted to hear about this. Besides, it wasn’t as if he discussed such matters with her. If anything, she would mention something to Tom. But even then, she probably wouldn’t, not given Phin’s reaction to Mr. Mercer’s ideas.

 

They reached the round temple, and Phin told them when it was built as well as the materials used. This folly had been crafted from a stone that was different from all the rest. Leah hadn’t known that explicitly, but now that he said so, she recognized the difference.

 

They continued along for nearly another hour, stopping and talking at each folly they encountered. Leah doubted they’d get to each one but hoped they’d at least see her favorite—the two-story castle. It seemed so, since it was just up ahead.

 

In addition to being the most complex folly in the gardens with its tower and staircase, the castle was also the closest to Leah’s home. One of the paths led to the edge of the gardens, where it bordered the far end of her family’s farm.

 

This was the closest she’d been to home in seven years. Her skin pricked, and she rubbed her arms.

 

“Cold?” Mr. Mercer asked.

 

“Just a slight chill,” she answered with a faint smile. She looked up at the folly, and her lips curved more as a flood of happy memories washed over her.

 

“That one is your favorite, I think,” Mr. Mercer observed.

 

“How can you tell?”

 

“Your face glowed like a London ballroom.”

 

“I see.” She kept her attention on the folly instead of looking at him. “Well, yes, it is my favorite. It was most conducive to playing knights and princesses.”

 

A deep, appreciative laugh leapt from Mr. Mercer. “How I would have liked to see that. Are you a romantic, Miss Webster?”

 

“Not at all.” Not that she would admit.

 

“This is my favorite folly,” Phin said when everyone had gathered at the front. His gaze met Leah’s and she wondered when—or if—her heart would ever stop swelling when she looked at him. Not today, apparently.

 

Phin continued with his explanation of the castle, which boasted an outer stone wall that formed a small courtyard within. There was where the tower stood, with a doorway, several openings for windows, and, of course, the staircase to the compact upper floor.

 

Leah practically itched to go inside, to recall the days she’d spent here with Phin. Closing her eyes briefly, she inhaled the scent of grass and of the rose that climbed along one of the exterior walls.

 

“Is the upper floor safe?” Mr. Mercer asked.

 

“Of course,” Leah quickly answered so that Phin wouldn’t have to. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

 

“That other folly in the labyrinth collapsed. I thought it a fair question to ask.”

 

Leah glanced toward Phin, who looked as if he wanted to murder Mr. Mercer.

 

“May we go inside?” Genevieve asked.

 

“Certainly.” Phin stepped to the side and gestured for her to walk through the wide-open doorway where a portcullis might have been. “I always thought this needed a moat,” he said to Genevieve, but casting a glance back toward Leah, who nodded in agreement. They’d discussed that often.

 

“Your grandfather said it would be too difficult to maintain,” Leah said.

 

“And it could negatively affect the integrity of the structure. We are very careful with our follies,” Phin added with a pointed look at Mr. Mercer.

 

Everyone walked into the courtyard and milled about for a few moments before Genevieve asked to go upstairs. Mrs. Selkirk and Mrs. Dunhill opted to remain in the courtyard while the rest of them went up to the top of the miniature tower.

 

Genevieve, who’d gone first, turned at the top of the stairs. “I feel like a princess climbing up here. Shall I let down my hair like Rapunzel?” She giggled as she made her way toward the window.