Chapter Thirty-Three

James discovered firsthand the Duke of Kielder’s capacity for battle strategy. No matter the enormity of tasks he was assigned every day, James still found himself crossing paths with Daphne several times, even if only in passing. Though she still hadn’t smiled at him, she seemed a bit less jumpy in his presence.

They’d walked about the park with Scamp that morning, as they had each of the past few mornings. Afternoon had come, and James found himself looking for her again. The Falstone House staff was every bit as loyal as His Grace had insisted during their weapons-punctuated interview. Not a soul would tell James outright where Daphne was to be found.

A perusal of the family and public rooms yielded no success. He didn’t dare attempt to infiltrate the kitchen. No doubt the cook had instructions to toss him in her soup pot if she felt so inclined. He walked along the back of the house, hoping to spy Daphne taking a turn around the back gardens.

He heard movement just inside a door on the east end of the house. Perhaps whoever was inside would be willing to point him in Daphne’s direction. He knew before even stepping inside that he’d found the herb room. The aromas wafting out were as strong as they were varied.

He stepped inside and nearly laughed at what he found. All his searching, and there Daphne was tying up bundles of some plant or another.

“You seem very hard at work.” He realized the moment the words left his mouth just how inelegant a greeting it was.

She didn’t seem to mind but simply kept at her efforts. “I was meant to spend the afternoon with my brother-in-law, but he is occupied with matters relating to the impending arrival of the newest member of the Boyce family.”

Boyce was the duke’s surname, though few people thought of him by anything other than his very intimidating title.

“So you have chosen this undertaking to fill your afternoon instead?” James stepped farther inside. “Does Falstone House not have enough staff for this?”

“I enjoy working with the herbs,” she said. “I think Adam knows he would have to sleep with one eye open if he ever took this task away from me.”

James smiled a bit at the absurdity of that threat. Daphne was a gentle soul; he knew that without a doubt. “You not only know how to use and grow the herbs but how to preserve them as well?”

She tied off the twine wrapped securely around a bundle of bright-green herbs and snipped the end. “The more I know about the plants I use, the better able I am to use them most efficaciously.”

“Can I assist you at all? I haven’t your knowledge, but I am very good at following directions.” He winced, knowing his recent history reflected unflatteringly on his tendency to do what he was told. Daphne didn’t seem to take his remark badly.

“How are you at hanging things on high hooks?” She glanced up at the myriad hooks adorning the ceiling. “I always have to use a step stool.”

James smiled. “I received very high marks in herb hanging at Harrow.”

“Top of your class, were you?” He heard a smile in her words, though one had not appeared on her face.

“No one could compete with me,” he said. “Fortunately for you, my skills are entirely at your disposal just now.”

She held her bundle out to him. “The hook just behind you, near the other bundles like this.”

He pointed to the one he thought she meant.

Daphne nodded.

“What plant is this?” he asked as he hung it on its hook.

“Marjoram.”

“And what is it used for?” By the time he turned back from his task, she had already begun tying another bundle.

“It is a soothing herb, used to treat pain and anxiety and internal discomfort.” She spoke as she selected green-leafed herbs from a basket.

James stepped up to the table where she worked. “That plant appears to be a different one.”

She discarded a stem she apparently found lacking. “This is sage.”

He could see Daphne had a great deal of experience with preparing herbs for drying. She worked without the slightest hesitation, creating perfect bundles with no visible effort.

“What is sage used for?” he asked both out of a desire to keep her talking and an unexpected curiosity.

She looked up from her neat pile of leaves. “Don’t you know anything, Lord Tilburn?” Her shock was too theatrical to be real. “Sage”—she held a sprig of sage up, pointing it directly at him—“is used to ward off evil spirits.”

He smiled at that. “I’m very pleased to know that. I have had the most unimaginably bad luck with evil spirits of late.”

A smile touched her eyes. With a little more teasing, might her dimple make an appearance as well?

“The throat tonics I recommended for your mother had sage as one of their primary ingredients.”

“Ah.” James watched her wind her bundle with twine. “Am I to hang that one alongside the marjoram?”

She shook her head. “I mean to give sage its own little corner. The other herbs are afraid of it, you see.”

James nodded soberly. “Very sage of you.”

She groaned. “Horrible, Lord Tilburn. Horrible.”

He hung his head. “My lowest marks were in puns.”

Daphne began another bundle of sage. If the size of her basket was any indication, she’d be working with the herbs for some time. James looked around the room as she worked.

“There must be a dozen varieties in here.”

“Twelve, exactly.” She looked up from her work, a light in her eyes James hadn’t seen since their falling out. “There are twice that many to prepare at the castle. I am hoping Adam will allow us to return earlier than expected so I won’t run out of time before the cold comes.”

“You enjoy this.”

Daphne nodded, an actual smile beginning on her face. James enjoyed seeing it.

“Do you have a favorite of those twenty-four?”

“Catmint,” she said. “It is used to treat infectious fevers.”

“Why is it your favorite?”

“It is so useful, an essential part of any herbalist’s collection. Yet few people have any idea what it is.” Here was the animation James had missed seeing in her. “And being in the mint family, it has such a wonderful fragrance if a person gets close enough to experience it. When it flowers, the blooms are so quietly beautiful, simple, and elegant.”

“Will you tell me about the others?”

She looked surprised at the request. “What? All of them?”

James nodded. He truly wished to hear more. She was happier talking about herbs than she’d been since his arrival at Falstone House.

“Let us start with—” He looked around a moment before settling on a prickly looking bundle hanging on the opposite side of the room. He held a hand out to her. Daphne’s attention was fixed on the various hanging herbs, her brows knit in thought. She accepted his hand, though he doubted she realized what she’d done. He led her to the herb he meant to start with. “This one.”

She kept her hand in his. “Rosemary. Very efficacious in treating headaches. And this”—she indicated another bundle nearby—“is soapwort. Excellent for treating boils.” She reached with her free hand for a jar nearby, filled with a collection of something horn shaped. “Comfrey root,” she said. “It is also called knit-bone. It’s used to treat injuries.”

He walked about the herb room with her, listening to her vast store of knowledge. She knew the herbs and oils and dried roots on sight. She could list their uses and, he fully suspected, knew precisely how to prepare any tisane or poultice called for.

“You amaze me.” He meant every word. “Is there anything you don’t know?”

A very becoming touch of color pinked her cheeks. Next to a fleeting glimpse of her dimple, he enjoyed seeing her color above almost anything. Not that he wanted to embarrass her. It was simply such a sincere reaction. Too many people of his acquaintance weren’t genuine. He had liked that about her from the beginning.

“What else can I do for you?” He truly wished to be of service in whatever way he could. Her happiness and well-being had become essential to his own.

“You needn’t actually stay if you’ve other things to attend to,” she said, settling herself at the worktable once more. “I’ll only be tying up herbs.”

James took his previous position as well. He missed the feel of her hand in his and wondered if she’d even noticed the gesture. “I have a hanging talent I need to put to use.”

She smiled at him then, a small one but a smile just the same. James would hang herbs with her all day for a fleeting glimpse of that dimple of hers.

It was a shame, really, that the ton couldn’t see her in that moment. She was so capable, so confident. Her passion for these herbs and the obvious years of study she’d invested lit her up in a way no one ever saw. No gentleman seeing the sparkle in her eyes as she worked could resist falling at least a little in love with her. It was little wonder he was finding himself in precisely that position.

He loved Daphne a little more every time he was with her. And he knew with utter certainty that he wouldn’t be the only one to fall under her spell. She was slowly but surely shedding the paralyzing timidity that had kept her hidden from Society’s view. She would likely always be quiet and subdued, but she wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Gentlemen would begin courting and wooing her, and one of them would succeed in earning her love in return. That someone, however, would not likely be him. For he was Apollo, the one man she could never trust again.