Page 12 of The Unassuming Curator

Chapter 5

It was the red campion collector. Emily was sure of it. The gentleman was dressed far more finely than he had been when he’d been digging flowers from the hedgerow, but there was no mistaking his hazel eyes and strong jawline. And if he was half as intelligent as those eyes suggested, he had recognized her. She battled a new wave of dismay. Obstructing the Dowager Lady Pendleton had been a wretched beginning to the evening. To have the esteemed lady recall Emily’s mother’s noteworthiness in the face of Emily’s bumbling had stung. But if those attending her first dinner engagement in London were to learn that she wandered country lanes unchaperoned, her mortification would be complete. Not to mention the disappointment she would be to Adam.

The few seconds these thoughts took to circle her head were filled with silence, and with a start, she realized that everyone was awaiting her response to Mr. Buckland’s question. How long was she to be in London? At this precise moment, one day more seemed too many. “I . . . I believe my brother and sister-in-law hope to stay until Season’s end,” she managed.

“To arrive so late in the Season would seem very imprudent.” It appeared that the Dowager Lady Pendleton had yet to take her leave. “Surely they are aware that the grandest balls were held weeks ago.”

“I am sure they are, my lady. But it was not possible for us to leave Berkshire earlier in the Season.”

“Lord Dunsbourne is a man after your own heart, Benedict,” Lady Millward said. “He works alongside his men in his orchard to produce a very fine apple cider.”

Lord Benning raised his eyebrows. “Is that so? I shall have to speak with him. Father and I were recently discussing the merits of introducing fruit trees to the grounds at Farwell Hall.”

“If you wish to be part of that conversation, you’d best join them right away,” Lady Millward said. “Your father and Lord Dunsbourne were discussing apple varieties when we left them.”

Lord Benning’s enthusiastic response was instant. “An excellent suggestion, Aunt.”

Seemingly oblivious to the Dowager Lady Pendleton’s stormy look, Lady Millward took the gentleman’s arm. “Come. I shall take it upon myself to introduce you.”

It seemed that Lord Benning needed no further persuading, and as he and Lady Millward stepped away from the small group, the Dowager Lady Pendleton uttered a disparaging humph and started across the room in the opposite direction.

“I fear that the Dowager Lady Pendleton may be a little put out,” Emily said.

“So it would seem,” Mr. Buckland concurred.

She turned to see humor dancing in the gentleman’s eyes. “That does not concern you?”

“On the contrary, Miss Norton. I am most relieved.”

Lady Millward’s voice reached her. She was making introductions.

“I get the distinct impression that your aunt is rather adept at rescue missions.”

Mr. Buckland laughed. It was a warm sound that released Emily’s full smile.

“That, she is, Miss Norton.” He glanced at his brother, who was now talking animatedly with Adam. “By the time you joined us, Benedict and I had done a decent job of planting a seed of doubt over Benedict’s suitability as a match for Lady Aurelia, but only Aunt Millward could have nurtured the seed so quickly and so magnificently.”

As glad as she was that Lady Millward had come to the aid of her nephew, Emily could not help but feel for the young lady on the other end of this equation. “What of Lady Aurelia?” she asked. “Will she be crushed by Lord Benning’s lack of interest in pursuing her?”

The humor left Mr. Buckland’s face. “You are good to think of her. She is to be pitied, certainly. Not because Benedict refuses to fall in with her grandmother’s machinations but, rather, because her grandmother will not cease her meddling. The Dowager Lady Pendleton cares little for the interests or feelings of her offspring. Her focus is purely on the titles and wealth they may acquire through marriage.”

“That is unfortunate.” A wave of gratitude for Adam and his gentle support swept over her. And with it came a renewed desire to spare him the details of her recent misstep. She mustered her courage, knowing that she must speak now, before the opportunity was gone. “Mr. Buckland. About our previous meeting . . .”

The gentleman had uncommonly expressive eyes, and currently, they were shining with an odd mixture of curiosity and expectancy. “Yes, Miss Norton?”

“I . . . uh . . . I wondered if perhaps we could refrain from sharing the details with anyone else.”

“You wish people to assume that this is the first time we have ever set eyes upon each other?” he said.

“Yes.” She clasped her hands together. “It would be better, don’t you think?” She had a sinking feeling that she could see humor glinting in his eyes now.

“I’m not sure that I fully understand why that would be so.”

Mentally revising her earlier guess that Mr. Buckland was an intelligent individual, Emily’s fingers tightened their grip. Honesty was surely her best policy, even if it meant admitting to her unsophistication in front of a relative stranger. “No matter that I wished to stretch my legs after having been in the carriage for some time, I should not have wandered a country lane unaccompanied. My brother was quick to point out my error when I returned to the carriage, and I am determined to do better, but . . .” She swallowed. “I did not tell him that I had met anyone on my ramble. I . . . I thought it better to spare him any unnecessary concern.”

Mr. Buckland smiled. “A worthy goal, Miss Norton. A gentleman holding a trowel was hardly a threat worth mentioning.”

“Then, you agree?” She clung to the hope he’d offered her. “You are willing to act as though we have only now met?”