Page 74 of A Bloom for a Blacksmith

Not sure exactly why the viscountess spoke as she did, Stella gave her a tentative grin. Had Lord Woodhurst shared what he suspected—or knew—about her and Darius?

Her grin soon widened into a smile, though. Lady Woodhurst appeared to be at least a decade older than her husband. Some might have even made the mistake of assuming she was his mother.

“Sarah, my sweet, please allow me,” Lord Woodhurst said as he joined them, his gaze on Darius.

The attention was returned in kind, and the two directed almost imperceptible nods to one another.

Stella caught the unspoken acknowledgment but managed to keep her smile in place.

“Sarah, Viscountess Woodhurst, allow me to introduce you to Mrs. Agremon—”

“Stella, please,” Stella said quietly.

“—the owner of the Antiquarian Quill, and to…” here, he paused, “Mr. Darius Agremon, the inventor of the Agremon Steamer.”

The enthusiasm behind his words could not be missed, and Stella relaxed.

“Oh, what a delight it is to meet you,” Sarah said as she took Stella’s arm and led her to the settee. “I cannot tell you how fortunate I am about becoming the owner of not one, not two, but twenty, first editions of Lady Cavendish’s works,” she said with excitement.

“Well, then, I do hope you’ll like this one, too,” Stella said, handing her the book she had brought.

“Oh, you’re far too generous,” Sarah said in awe, taking the gift in her gloved hands. “I’m quite sure I don’t have this one.”

They sat next to one another while the gentlemen settled into adjacent chairs after Darius had handed the potted tree to James. “For your country estate. In fifty years, it will be the tallest of all your trees.”

The viscount chuckled softly. “Mayhap I’ll live long enough to see it,” he said. “Thank you.”

The butler reappeared and held out a silver tray bearing cups of coffee and a dish of walnuts.

Stella helped herself to a cup and said, “So you were pleased with Lord Woodhurst’s gifts for your birthday?”

The matron tossed her head, sending the purple feathered comb in her coiffure waving about above her. “He has my adoration for life, but he already knows that.” She directed a prim grin in his direction as she took one of the coffees and used the spoon to scoop some walnuts onto her saucer.

“I am glad to hear it. He mentioned you were a bluestocking—”

“Probably with derision?” Sarah guessed, although her manner was still playful.

Stella gasped. “Not at all,” she replied, turning her attention to the viscount. He was in the middle of taking a cup of coffee, an enigmatic expression crossing his face.

“I knew you were a voracious reader when I met you, my sweet,” James said. He turned his attention to Darius. “I understand you’ve already taken your invention out for a drive,” he said.

“Only yesterday,” Darius acknowledged. “It worked. There are some refinements I’m in the process of making. A week or two, and I think it will be ready.”

“What are you plans for it?”

Darius lifted a shoulder. “Find a manufacturer, I suppose. Or sell the designs to someone in search of such a product. Do you by chance know of anyone who might be interested in such a venture?”

James gave a start. “I might. Judging from the number of bets in the betting book at White’s, I would say there are probably a number of gentlemen who would either back the venture or who know of a factory that could handle such a project.” He took a sip of coffee before adding, “I understand you’re fairly new to London?”

“We are,” Darius affirmed. “We’ve been living on the Continent for the past couple of decades.”

“Is it true you were born in Greece?” Sarah asked.

“Sarah,” James said in scolding whisper.

Stella tittered. “I don’t mind saying that I was, but it’s been a very long time since I was last there.” She waved to Darius. “He was in Greece more recently, fighting in their war for independence.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “Did you fight with Lord Byron?” she asked with excitement.