In the Wake of the Wind (20 page)

“Tadpole tails, no doubt,” he said dryly.

“It’s lizard tails,”
Serafina
replied absently. “But Auntie hasn’t ordered any of those for ages, so they can’t go in this blend.”

Raphael smothered a laugh. “I hope you’re not serious.”

“Oh, yes. You have to realize that some ingredients can be very expensive and hard to obtain,” she said, wiping the corners of her mouth. “Aunt Elspeth kicked up a terrible fuss when I asked her for a bottle of her precious oil—you know what she thinks of Charlotte—but I persuaded her that not only would she be unkind not to help someone in pain, but also that Charlotte might not resort to quoting the Bible so often if her back didn’t hurt all the time. She gave me two bottles.”

Raphael laughed. “Very clever. I don’t know if anything will stop Charlotte from her Bible quoting at this late date, and I sincerely hope for your sake that Charlotte never discovers what practices your aunt’s medicinal background is based on, for there would be hell to pay if she thought she was in the presence of a witch.”

“I have worried a little about that. Aunt Elspeth’s patience is not her strongest suit, and Charlotte is severely trying it. But Auntie returns to Clwydd soon, so I think her secret about being a Wiccan will remain safe.”

“Good, unless her feathered familiar spills the soup,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Oh, Raphael, don’t be silly.”
Serafina
looked at him with exasperation. “He’s not a familiar, he’s just an ordinary parrot who talks too much for his own good.”

“Mmm. Has Charlotte found out yet?”

“I’m afraid so. One of the housemaids unwisely mentioned him, and Charlotte became terribly agitated, convinced Basil would soil the rugs and chew the furniture and spread vermin everywhere. I promised her Aunt Elspeth would keep him confined to his cage and that he really was very clean, and she eventually capitulated, although I can’t say she was happy.”

“No, I should think not. Charlotte’s ordered life at Townsend has been set on its ear, even more than she realizes. But the change is good for her. It’s been good for Lord Delaware, too. Aiden will have much to be grateful to you for when he comes home.”

Serafina
pulled her gaze away, not having any idea what Aiden would think.

“Are you still concerned you won’t be up to scratch?” Raphael asked, regarding her closely.

Serafina
didn’t know how to reply. She’d carefully steered away from the subject of her feelings toward Aiden, not even sure she knew what they were anymore. “I am a little nervous,” she said truthfully. “You’ll keep your promise, won’t you? I’d rather he didn’t know you’ve been teaching me.”

“I’ll keep my promise, but do you really think Aiden’s going to believe you suddenly learned everything out of the clear blue sky?” he said, amused.

“Maybe he’ll think I’ve picked up my newfound knowledge from Charlotte,” she said. “I hope so, because I don’t want him to ask any questions.” She peeped an embarrassed little look up at Raphael. “I have to confess that when Aiden suggested I had things to learn, I dug my heels in and told him I wanted nothing to do with his world. I wasn’t very nice about it.”

“Weren’t you?” Raphael asked gravely.

“No, and I feel ashamed of myself for being so intractable, since I have come to think that Aiden was only trying to be helpful. I know I’m being proud, but I—I’d rather Aiden didn’t know that I changed my mind about learning to be a countess.”

“Aiden is not an unreasonable man. Why would he be anything but happy that you changed your mind?”

“I can’t explain,” she said, desperately searching to find an acceptable explanation for her reluctance to have Aiden know what she’d been doing. She couldn’t possibly tell Raphael the truth of the matter. “It’s just that we got off on the wrong foot with each other and—and I want to start over, to make things better between us. But I don’t want Aiden to think I’m trying too hard, or he might mistake my intentions again.”

“Ah,” he said, rubbing the comer of his mouth. “I think I begin to see.”

“Do you? Do you really?” she said, infinitely relieved.

“It sounds to me as if you want to please Aiden, but you don’t want him to know it in case he returns to thinking that all you care about is being a countess. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Yes! That’s it exactly.” There was more to it, far more, for her greatest concern was that Aiden might misinterpret her desire to give him a happy home as a willingness to capitulate to him in every way, the one thing she wasn’t prepared to do to further his happiness.

“I can’t say I understand completely,” he said slowly, “but far be it from me to judge your reasoning. I’m pleased that you’re willing to make an effort at a marriage you were unhappy about to begin with. Perhaps you’ll even find that Aiden makes a good husband.”

Serafina
didn’t answer, mainly because there was nothing to say.

“Well, let’s not put the cart before the horse. You know I hold Aiden in high esteem, and I hope one day you will discover the reasons why. In the meantime, you needn’t worry about me; you have my word that my lips are sealed as to my part in your education.”

“Thank you,” she said with relief. “I appreciate your help as well as your silence.”

“Not at all. Now let us practice peeling fruit with a knife and fork.”

Aiden pulled up at the front door of Townsend absurdly proud of himself. He’d not only brought home three trunks’ worth of clothing for
Serafina
and his sister, but he’d also brought home a fine carriage embossed with the Delaware coat of arms and a team of four high-stepping horses. On top of that, he’d put the family finances to right.

He alighted from the carriage and ran up the front steps, taking them two at a time, wanting nothing more than to see Serafina’s smiling face greeting him, a harmless piece of fantasy he’d indulged himself in over the last four weeks.

But instead of
Serafina,
Plum met him at the door. Well, nothing unusual in that, he thought through his disappointment.

“Where is her ladyship?” Aiden asked as soon as Plum had finished his usual welcoming speech.

“Which ladyship, my lord?” Plum inquired. “ Lady Charlotte is in her study, and your wife is out for the afternoon.”

Aiden experienced another surge of disappointment. “Do you know where my wife has gone?” he asked, trying not to show his impatience.

“I can’t say, my lord. Lady Aubrey leaves every day at noon and doesn’t return until four ‘o clock.”

“Does she?” Aiden replied with surprise. “Does she go walking?” he asked, thinking he might find her somewhere nearby.

“I believe not, my lord. Her ladyship takes a horse.”

“A—a horse?” Aiden said, sudden panic coming over him at the thought of
Serafina
atop an ungovernable mount. “Can she ride?”

“I have no idea, my lord, but as she comes back in one piece every day I assume she can, unless she walks the beast on foot.”

Plum actually smiled at him, and Aiden thought he must be hallucinating. The Townsend staff never smiled, certainly not Plum. He’d never even known Plum had teeth. “I see,” he said, doing his best not to stare at the man in open astonishment. “Very good. I’ll—I’ll see if I can’t track her down. Will you see that the trunks are brought in from the carriage and taken upstairs?”

“Very good, my lord.”

Aiden turned on his heel and went back out the door, deciding to go and saddle up Aladdin. He’d waited a month to see
Serafina,
and he didn’t intend to wait a minute longer. He headed toward the stables, wondering where
Serafina
went for four hours every afternoon on horseback.

As he passed the burgeoning rose garden he vaguely noted that it looked considerably tidier. An elderly man dressed in shabby clothes was busily trimming the hooped bower. Aiden was under the impression that all the gardeners had been dismissed, but he supposed
Serafina
might have taken it upon herself to hire help, devoted gardener that she was.

And then his step slowed and he stopped, his head turning to look harder at the man. He stared in disbelief, thinking for the second time in nearly as many minutes that his eyes were playing tricks on him.

He strode quickly toward the bower. “Father?” he croaked, nearly speechless with astonishment, “is that you?” Lord Delaware turned, his face lighting up with pleasure.

“Aiden, my boy—you’re home! We thought you might be any time now. How did your trip go?”

Aiden slowly shook his head, taking in his father’s appearance. He looked … healthy. Cheerful, even, but not the befuddled sort of cheerfulness that came from drinking. This was a man he might never have seen before, his eyes clear and alert, a man who thrived on his work.

“Oh, dear,” his father said, his smile fading. “Did you not manage to recover our losses? I’m so terribly sorry.” The hand that held the clippers dropped to his side. “I made a terrible mess of things, didn’t I?” He hung his head.

“No—no, everything went well,” Aiden said, still in a state of shock. “I’m merely surprised to see you here.”

“Thank heaven,” Lord Delaware said, his face clearing again. “I thought for a terrible moment that you’d been too late in getting to London. I didn’t hear from you, and I kept telling myself no news was good news. And I suppose it was after all.”

“Yes—yes, it’s all good news.” Aiden looked at him closely, baffled. “I didn’t write because I didn’t think you’d be interested in hearing the details. And speaking of that, I’ve never known you to take any interest in gardening. Why now?”

His father laughed, his eyes bright. “I decided that it was high time I made myself useful. Isabel would have been appalled at the state I allowed her beloved gardens to fall into, so I thought I might remedy matters.” He pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his face.
“Serafina
has been most helpful in instructing me—a most knowledgeable girl. What do you think, Aiden? Looking much improved, isn’t it? I think your mother would be happy.”

Aiden glanced about him, trying to regain his balance. His father had hardly mentioned his mother’s name in all the time Aiden could remember. And yet now his father spoke it as naturally as if it came tripping off his tongue every day.

Aiden hadn’t even known that his mother had loved the gardens. He swallowed hard against the knot that had formed in his throat, thrown off guard by the sudden men
tion
of a woman he’d always wanted to ask about but hadn’t dared. Aiden’s mother had been a subject completely off-limits.

“Yes,” he answered, speaking with an effort. “I’m sure she would be happy.” He passed a hand over his face, assailed by emotions he hadn’t even known he’d possessed. “I—I’m pleased that you’re making an effort,” he managed to say.

“Are you, my boy? I’m so happy to hear it. I don’t think I’ve pleased you in a very long time, if ever, and I’m sorry about that.” Lord Delaware fidgeted with one of the buttons on his jacket. “I hope I can find a way to make it up to you, and if it’s only by lending a helping hand about the place, I’ll be content.”

Aiden didn’t know what to say. He felt as if he’d just entered an alternate world where his father had always been sane and sober and accessible. But images flashed through his mind that grounded him in reality, memories of a man who had locked himself away, drinking himself into a regular stupor, a man who had flown into ungovernable rages at the drop of a hat, a man who had even married his son off without his consent just to save the family name.

“Work where you will,” he said, hardening himself against a treacherous urge to be sentimental. “It’s as much your house as mine, and more so when it comes down to it. I’m hardly likely to stand in your way.”

His father colored, his gaze dropping away. “I had hoped you would be a little more forgiving. But you have every right to your ire. I am sure I deserve it.”

Aiden was about to respond to that understatement when a cry went up and he turned to see a woman flying across the lawn on a beautiful chestnut mare, her hair loosed, legs astride, her hand waving, a handful of flowers grasped in it.

His heart lurched as he realized it was
Serafina
—riding bareback as if she’d been born on a horse, the most welcome sight he’d seen in a very long time, although he didn’t have the first clue where the horse had come from.

For one wonderful moment he thought she was waving at him, but that hope was quickly dashed as she rapidly dismounted, running toward his father instead, leaving her horse to graze.

“Look!” she cried. “The foxgloves are out! Won’t Aunt Elspeth be pleased? She can make—” She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening, the flowers dropping from her hand as Aiden stepped out of the shade of the bower.

“Hello,
Serafina,”
he said softly, his heart filled with joy to see her like this, the wild wood nymph he’d longed for, looking natural and simple and full of life itself. She even had a twig caught in her hair.

“Aiden,” she said, taking a step back, her gaze falling to the grass. “I didn’t—that is, I wasn’t…”

“Expecting me?” he said, walking up to her and retrieving the fallen bunch of flowers. “I was bound to reappear at some point.”