Romancing the Heiress(28)
Author: Darcy Burke
Sadie put her arms around Leah and hugged her tightly. “Then there must be a path.”
“We kissed this afternoon.” Leah hadn’t meant to tell her. Doing so made it more real, made his rejection more real.
Pulling back, Sadie looked at her with wide eyes and parted lips. “You should have told me that straightaway.” She grinned. “This is wonderful.”
Tears stinging her eyes, Leah shook her head. “It isn’t at all. He’s avoided me all evening and barely spoke to me when he came to dance with Genevieve. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye.”
Sadie pursed her lips in a deep frown. “I’m going to kick him. No, I’m going to have Law call him out.”
At last, Leah felt a bubble of emotion that wasn’t dark. She actually laughed and was grateful for her friend. “Thank you. But it’s hopeless. It’s clear to me that Phin wishes to forget the kiss even happened.”
“Or he’s confused about what happened and trying to work through his emotions,” Sadie suggested with a hopeful smile.
Leah couldn’t allow herself to think that. If she was wrong, the rejection would be even more devastating. “You’ll have to forgive me for not sharing your optimism. I shall place my energy in hoping for a position with Lord Murdock’s mother.”
“I understand. However, I will hope Phin comes to his senses.”
Sadie could hope all she wanted, but Leah didn’t think that would happen. Furthermore, it was probably best if it didn’t. Now that Leah was back in Marrywell and had seen her brother and nearly run into her father, she feared staying permanently would be too difficult. Sooner or later, she’d have to face her mother, and Leah wasn’t sure she wanted to. No, Leah wasn’t sure she could.
Chapter 11
Phin finished his third tankard of ale in the brewer’s field and stood to fetch another. The drink was just beginning to dull his wits, which was the desired outcome. He didn’t want to think about how he ought to marry Genevieve anymore—they’d progressed to first names earlier when they’d danced. More than that, he didn’t want to continue reliving his kiss with Leah.
Ah, but it was the sweetest torture.
Before Phin could reach one of the ale stalls, Mercer walked into his path. “Evening, Radford,” he said amiably. “Can I buy you an ale?”
“I was just leaving.” It wasn’t Phin’s first choice, but it was preferable to Mercer’s company.
“Come, let us just sit for a moment,” Mercer cajoled.
Phin clenched his jaw in frustration. “I need to speak with someone.”
“All right, then I’ll walk with you.” Mercer either didn’t realize he was being rebuffed or he didn’t care. Given the man’s arrogance, it could easily be either.
Striding toward one of the entrances to the brewer’s field—a large opening in one of the hedgerows surrounding the area—Phin hoped if he walked fast enough, the man might abandon whatever mission he’d undertaken.
Mercer didn’t hesitate to speak. “I’ve been talking to people about the gardens.”
Phin resisted the urge to tell him to mind his own business. “Why?”
“I’m very interested in every aspect of this festival. I’ve learned that the gardens are not up to their usual standards the past few years. Some say the maintenance is not what it was. Others say last year’s weather is entirely to blame for how…lackluster the flower beds look this year. Some also point out that they’ve looked a bit…weak the past three years or so.”
They had? No one had said anything to Phin. “I’m sure if any of that was of true concern, someone would have mentioned it to me.”
“Perhaps they don’t wish to draw attention to whatever…problems you may be having. I will say, everyone speaks highly of you and your grandfather. Indeed, your grandsire is somewhat of a legend.”
And Phin was letting him down, especially if people were noticing the garden was in trouble. His anger getting the better of him, Phin stopped short and turned to face the man. “What is your point in this, Mercer?”
The shorter man squared his shoulders and met Phin’s gaze, his eyes flinty and confident. “It seems to me that you’re struggling. This should be a profitable business, and either you are not inclined to try to make it so or you lack the, er, skills. There’s no shame in that. From what I hear, you’re a talented horticulturalist. If you didn’t have to oversee the gardens, you could dedicate more time to that.” He paused before delivering the fatal blow. “I’d like to buy the gardens from you, and I’ll make a good offer.”
Fatal blow? Phin couldn’t seem to help but overreact to this interloper. But was he really overreacting? Mercer had been nothing if not overbold in his interrogations and his information gathering.
“Whom did you talk to?” Phin worried Mercer had stirred up concern in the town by pointing out that the gardens were declining. However, it sounded as though those concerns may have been there even before Mercer had decided to become a nuisance. Not only had Phin failed to keep the garden as it should be, he’d been unsuccessful in hiding the fact that there was a problem.
“Just a handful of people, and I was very discreet. People tend to find me warm and genial—they like talking to me.” He shared this information as if it were the gospel truth and not his own opinion.
Phin hardened his gaze. “No.”
Mercer blinked. “No what?”
“No, I won’t sell my botanical gardens to you. I am fine. They are fine. Everything is fine.” Except nothing was. “Go back to London, Mercer. Marrywell isn’t the place for you.”
Before the man could respond, Phin hurried off, taking long strides to carry him as far away as possible as quickly as possible.
Damn it all to hell. If he hadn’t been willing to use the gardens to turn a profit, he certainly wasn’t going to sell them. Especially not to bloody Mercer. Phin realized the man’s name was suspiciously close to “mercenary.” The word fit him perfectly.
Phin needed to bring his heiress plan to fruition. The time had come to make his own offer—for Genevieve’s hand. He changed course toward where he’d left her after their dance.