Page 17 of A Landscape of Love

“These two are very good,” Hart said with approval. “I don’t like that one. Too fussy. All those tiny panes of glass would cost a fortune. Anyone wanting to pay that much would want something bigger. These two I could consider, though.”

“Really,” Fidelia said, sounding as excited as her brother. “You would really buy the designs from Alex?”

“Not like this,” Hart said with a soft laugh. “I need elevations of each side, drawn to scale. Detailed drawings of every element and every measurement marked clearly. But then, I might consider buying them. They’re certainly good enough. I think my clients would buy them.”

“Oh, well done, Alex. Didn’t I tell you they were good?” Fidelia said to her brother, who was blushing fiercely and looking dreadfully pleased with himself.

“Oh, yes, but you don’t know, Lia, and you’re my sister, so you would say something nice, but… but if you really think they’re good, sir?”

“I do,” Hart said. “Said so, didn’t I?”

Alex reached for his hand and shook it, his expression one of delight. “Thank you, Mr De Beauvoir. I shall get started on these at once,” he added, gathering up his plans and hurrying away.

“Alex!” Fidelia called after him in bemusement. “Well, drat him. He seems to have forgotten about me and the basket,” she added with a laugh.

“I’ll carry it for you,” Hart said, as she gathered the picnic things together and put them away.

“That’s kind, but I don’t want to interrupt your work,” she said, darting a look at him from under her lashes.

“It will only take a moment, the men can survive that long. How are the seeds? You’ve not drowned them?”

Fidelia grinned at him, and Hart looked away, a little startled as his heart reacted to her delighted expression with an erratic thud. Instead, he concentrated on putting the cork back in the empty beer bottle.

“You’ve been dying to ask that, haven’t you?”

“No,” Hart retorted, and then caught the look in her eyes and shrugged. “Well, yes. You mustn’t over water them. They’ll rot.”

She smiled then, a softer look that would have any man with a pulse losing his wits. Hart returned his attention to the basket. “I am taking good care of them, at least I hope I am. I go every day, in the morning and in the late afternoon. There are no signs of life yet, though your sweet peas are growing admirably.”

Hart made a sound of approval and got to his feet, offering her his hand. She took it, her small, white-gloved fingers all wrong against his large, work-hardened hands. He let go at once, hoping he’d not dirtied the pristine gloves.

“Take one end, please,” she instructed, picking up the blanket and giving it a shake.

Hart did as she asked, helping her to fold it and putting it on top of the basket. “I’ll walk you back, then.”

“Thank you.”

“You ought not to have come,” he added.

“Whyever not? It was quite unexceptional with my brother as chaperone.”

“Your brother is not here now,” Hart pointed out. “And people talk. You’ve enough trouble. Just don’t seek me out. It doesn’t take much for rumours to start.”

She snorted at that. “They’ll talk enough once I claim my son.”

“About you, not about me,” Hart said, regretting the words the moment they left his mouth.

Fidelia paled. “No, of course, I-I didn’t think as usual, did I? I beg your pardon. I would not wish to create gossip about you.”

Hart cursed, feeling like a brute. “Dammit, I don’t give a tinker's cuss what people say about me, but you need to be careful. Don’t give your father any more reasons to confine you to the house, and don’t lose me this job, that’s all I ask.”

She nodded, her expression grave, and Hart wished he’d not chased away her good humour. It had been lovely to see her smile.

“It’s all right,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “I’m not cross. Just be careful, for both our sakes, yes?”

She did smile then, though not so freely as before. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I will try to remember. Good day, Mr De Beauvoir, and thank you for what you’re doing for my brother. You’ve given him such a lot of confidence. He admires you a good deal, you know.”

Hart nodded, uncomfortable with the praise, but encouraged to think the boy was gaining self-assurance. They walked the rest of the way in silence until the house loomed over them.