Rupert relaxed at once, relieved beyond words that she had become comfortable around him once more. When she let her guard down, their conversation always proved much more enlightening. And diverting.
“Do you really have a flower to show me, Mr. Gardiner, or was it all a ruse to make sure my escape?” she asked, those lovely blue eyes twinkling at him.
Rupert’s heart hummed in an approximation of the sound of a bee, happily at work at a flower.
He cleared his throat. “Actually, I wonder if you might like to see the bees I found yesterday. His Grace’s beekeeper intends to tempt them with a hive this afternoon, so this will be my last chance to study them as they swarm.”
Her fingers went to her throat. “Do we need to wear any netting?”
A practical question rather than a fearful one.
“We will not disturb them, only view their actions from afar.” His free hand reached out, grasping her elbow for a moment in reassurance.
Miss Sharpe was an absolute marvel, and when she looked up at him with her confident smile and dancing eyes, Rupert found himself entirely entranced.
“Lead the way, Mr. Gardiner.” She nodded to the forest. “I trust you to keep me safe.”
Alice followed Mr. Gardiner through the stand of chestnut trees, around an open field, and to the edge of the forest. The closer the trees loomed, the closer she drew to the gentleman’s side. She had no love for the closed-in woods and had not since becoming lost in a similar forest near her great-uncle’s home.
Thankfully, Mr. Gardiner stopped several feet from the first tree with its gnarled, grasping branches.
“Here. Stand quiet and still. You will hear them.” He put down his things, and Alice lowered his net to the pile he made. Then she held her sketchbook to her chest and listened.
At first she heard nothing but the wind and the rustle of the grass.
Then she heard the heavy buzz of hundreds of bees. Narrowing her eyes, she searched the tree line until she saw them, darting above the branches, flying in tight circles around one another. Her mouth fell open. “They sound as though they are rather angry. Are you certain it is safe to be this close?”
Mr. Gardiner moved closer, their shoulders nearly brushing, as he gazed in the same direction she did. “Quite certain. Yesterday, I stood directly beneath them and they paid me no heed.” He sighed rather deeply. “The beekeeper hasn’t the first idea where they are from. No one has reported their bees missing, he said. So these are likely wild, hunting for a place to begin a new colony with a young queen.”
Alice looked up again, the bonnet shading her eyes from the afternoon sun. “It is an impressive sight. How will the beekeeper capture them?”
“Mr. Badger—that is his proper name, you needn’t raise your eyebrows at me like that—will bring an empty hive-box beneath the tree. He will bait it with honeycomb from another hive. If they come inside and find they like it, they do most of his work for him. He need only wait until dusk to put them to sleep with a little smoke, then he can carry them back to where the rest of His Grace’s bees are kept.”
The process fascinated Alice, and Mr. Gardiner obviously took a great interest in it. “I did not even know the duke kept bees until today.”
“Most grand houses keep their own bees, unless there is an accomplished beekeeper nearby to do the task.” Mr. Gardiner shifted his stance, turning more toward her. His hand found her elbow again, touching her lightly. “I know you have your own work to see to today, Miss Sharpe, but I wanted to ask if I might send you more flowers to study. A third grouping. I planned to gather them today.” He gestured to the basket on the ground.
“Oh. Of course.” Alice tried to ignore his hand, alarmed as she was by her awareness of exactly where his fingertips lingered. Despite his glove, despite her long-sleeved gown, heat simmered there upon her skin and crept throughout the rest of her.
“Thank you.” His hand fell back to his side, and his gaze lowered to the ground. “I meant what I said before.”
Alice studied the line of his jaw, the way his eyebrows pulled together far too seriously. “What you said before?” she repeated, trying to calm her racing pulse.
“To the ladies. You have a wonderful gift, Miss Sharpe, and I am grateful for it. You have lifted part of the burden from my shoulders. I only wish I knew how to thank you properly.” He raised those dark eyes, meeting her stare squarely. Catching her studying him.
Alice’s mouth dried and her throat momentarily closed, and all thought fled as his gaze captured hers.
When had anyone given her such undivided attention? She could not recall a time when someone looked at her as though she meant something to them, as though she were important in her own right.
“You have already thanked me, when I was less than gracious about the responsibility.” She was nearly ashamed to admit as much, though logically she still knew she had been justified in her frustration with him.
Somehow, it no longer mattered that she must give up her own time for his project.
His expression softened, the look in his eyes gentle and almost admiring. He tilted his head closer, and Alice realized she had begun to lean toward him.
Abruptly she stepped back, raising her sketchbook higher as though it could shield her from—from whatever it was that had almost happened.
“Tomorrow is my half day, after the children have breakfast,” she blurted. “I can work more upon the illustrations then.”
Mr. Gardiner’s expression changed to bemusement, then slowly he shook his head. “I cannot allow that, Miss Sharpe. You must have some time for yourself. Even I must take breaks from this work, to clear my mind and let it rest. When one works until they are overtired of a subject, they are more likely to make mistakes.”
He turned back to studying the swarming bees at the edge of the wood. He crossed his arms over his chest and relaxed.
“But I could spend the entire day on your sketches,” Alice protested, canting her head to the side. “I might accomplish much without interruption.”
Mr. Gardiner chuckled, still facing the trees.
“Absolutely not. I will not hear of it.” He spoke with a friendliness she had not expected, despite issuing his suggestion as a command. “Come now, Miss Sharpe. There must be something else you would rather do. What plans did you have for your half days before I appeared, confounding you and claiming all your free moments for my own?”
Alice considered the question, sorting through her thoughts and trying to remember if she had ever had any plans. A short walk would take her to the village supporting Castle Clairvoir. Lambsthorpe’s main street boasted little more than a grocer and millinery, with a public house and inn should she wish to find a bite of food.
Then she looked back the way they had come, knowing the gardens would be overrun if the next day proved pleasant. That left her with little to do outside of the castle.
Perhaps she might enter the library—but then, since the duke and duchess had guests, she might be unwanted in the public rooms.
When she peered up at Mr. Gardiner again, and somewhat sheepishly lifted one shoulder in a shrug, she had to admit the truth of her situation. “I honestly cannot think of another way to spend my time. Perhaps reading. Or preparing lessons for the coming week.”