“I think as contrary as that babe is, it will be a daughter.” Before she could make a retort he laughed and kissed her.
Gavin was glad they had arrived. He didn’t know how much more he could take of a couple in love. When the coach came to a stop, he hopped out, and held his hand out for Georgie. Still, he would like to have moments with her that their friends did. Just because he could not love her didn’t mean he couldn’t desire her, and be her friend, and be happy and playful when she was carrying their children. Of course he could. He wasn’t a cold man. He simply needed to maintain control over his emotions and not fall in love. The only problem was that he was beginning to doubt what that meant.
She placed her hand in his as if it belonged there. To him. “Do you have any idea of what is scheduled?”
“Not at all. I do know the gardens and wood are large and planned out. I am only surprised they do not have a maze.”
That was the one thing they didn’t need. One either quickly found the key to a maze or got lost. “Do not suggest it. I have no doubt Lady Turner would be happy to have one designed and planted.”
Georgie smiled suddenly and it took his breath away. “I have no doubt you are correct.”
They were ushered into the hall and back to a morning room before they were announced.
After they greeted the Turners and the Fitzwalters, and were handed glasses of champagne, they were bid to explore as they pleased.
“You will find tables filled with delicacies all over the gardens,” Lady Turner assured them.
And indeed she was correct. He and Georgie strolled through the various areas of the formal gardens that appeared to date to at least Queen Elizabeth’s time and at every turn there were tables set with cakes, biscuits, fresh and dried fruits, nuts, cheeses, and everything else one could want, even forced strawberries.
“I must admit I am impressed,” he said, taking a small handful of nuts.
“I am as well.” Georgie plucked a biscuit from a platter. “I like how there is something different on each table.”
She bit into the confection and closed her eyes. “Lemon, but unlike one I have ever had before. It is spicy.”
“You will have to ask for recipes.” He guided her toward the wood.
“I do not think I will be successful. Adeline asked for the recipe for a seed cake from Amanda Fitzwalter, and she had been sworn to secrecy by her mother.”
“Shall we take samples home and ask if the Littleton cook can work out what is in them?”
She chuckled as she finished the biscuit. “That is actually an inspired idea.”
He tucked her hand more securely into the crook of his arm. “Do you know anything about the wood path?”
“Only that there are seasonal plantings, benches, and other items of interest.” Her eyes were wide with innocence when she looked up at him. “Would you like to explore it?”
“Yes.” God yes! And only with her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Thank the Lord that he agreed to her suggestion.
As Georgie and Turley started meandering along the woodland path, she kept an eye out for likely places to encourage a kiss from him. She could not believe her wait was almost over.
They passed by several interestingly carved wooden benches that seemed to reach out and beg one to make a pause in one’s ramblings. Marble statues were tucked amid bushes of cotoneaster and sea starwort, as well as other autumn-blooming plants. The path—she had been told—led around the lake and over the stream that fed the lake.
They were in sight of the stone bridge when she finally spied the perfect place. A massive weeping willow with branches so thick she could barely see the bench built around one side of the tree. “Oh, look. That is enchanting!”
She dropped her hand from his arm and turned them off the path toward the tree with Turley following closely behind. “It certainly looks old.”
Georgie stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Did the man not have any romance in him? “Of course it is, to be so large. I would simply like to stop and sit under it.”
“If you wish.” He took her arm again and helped her, carefully guiding her over any possible dips in the earth or rocks.
In another mood, she would have wondered how he thought she got around in the country, but now she enjoyed how considerate he was being. He held the branches aside for her to enter the bower made by the tree.
It was as if someone had made a place for a lovers’ tryst. She dropped her hand and slowly twirled around taking in the arbor, then Georgie turned back to him and he was staring at her with a strange look in his eyes. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” His voice was rough as if it had not been used in a very long time. “There is nothing at all wrong.”
She stood completely still as he slowly moved toward her. Her heart began beating so hard she was sure he could hear it. This was really going to happen. He was going to kiss her.
Turley took her hands, placing them between his much larger ones, and she wished they were not wearing gloves. Slowly, he brought her hands to his lips and placed featherlight kisses on each knuckle. Still keeping his blue gaze on her, he bent his head. Georgie allowed her eyes to flutter shut as she waited for his lips to touch hers.
“What’d you think your doin’?” someone shouted.
Oh, God. We’ve been caught!
She and Turley jumped apart as if they’d been burnt and looked around them. But there was no one there.
“Gimme back my fish. I caught ’em!” The person was much angrier now.
Putting one finger to his lips, Turley pulled back the branches on the river side of the tree just enough to look out. On the opposite bank of the small river was a youth, probably about ten or eleven. His chin jutted out and his eyes narrowed contemptuously. Across from him was one of the gentleman guests—Mr. Barfleur if she was not mistaken—holding a fishing rod. “I’ll pay you for them.” Reaching into his waistcoat pocket he drew out a few coins and handed them out. “You can take this.”
The boy spit, narrowly missing his highly polished boots. “Ye think I’m stupid? I can get more for ’em than that.”
Mr. Barfleur’s lips curled into a sneer. “Not if you’re caught poaching.”
Yet the obvious threat did not appear to upset the youth at all. “It ain’t poaching unless I’m getting them from the lake.”
“I am taking the fish. You may have the coins or not.” Mr. Barfleur lifted the keepnet and hadn’t even turned around before the boy jumped on him.
“Ye gimme back my fish!”
Turley looked at her and heaved a sigh. “I suppose I’d better stop this before someone gets hurt.”
“I’ll go with you. My presence might not stop the lad, but it should make Mr. Barfleur think a bit.” She sighed to herself. The promise of a kiss was clearly at an end. For now.
“Good idea.” Turley held out his arm, but she clasped his much larger hand instead. At first he looked shocked, then he grinned. “Let’s go.” The second they came out from under the tree, he shouted, “Barfleur, give the boy back his fish.”
The man’s jaw dropped, but he recovered more quickly than she’d thought possible. “This is not your business, my lord. Aside from that, they’re mine.”