Page 21 of The Botanist’s Improper Bride
She wound between the guests, heading toward him. He did the same, meeting her in the middle of the throng.
“Hello, Miss Dalton.” He ducked his head slightly, his eyes dropping away from hers again.
“It’s so good to see you,” she exclaimed, raising her voice to be heard over the hum of conversation around them. She wanted to tell him that he could call her Seraphina, but that wouldn’t be proper in a setting like this, so she settled for adding, “I had no idea you were coming tonight. You look very dashing.”
The most enchanting blush stole across his cheeks. “I can’t possibly compare to you. You’re the most beautiful person here.”
His tone was factual, not flirtatious, and that made the sentiment all the more meaningful.
Of course, he likely didn’t mean it how it sounded. He was simply observing what he perceived to be the truth, not endeavoring to flatter her like the men she’d danced with.
“What brings you here from Lincolnshire?” she asked.
He fidgeted, tapping his fingertips against his thigh, one after the other. “Not balls, certainly,” he muttered so quietly, she almost didn’t hear him.
She fought the urge to laugh, instead asking, “How are your studies? Are you still investigating factors that increase the yield of wheat?”
“No. This year I’ve been tracking the development of different species of waterlily.” His whole face lit up, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “It’s quite fascinating. You may have heard of the species that has been introduced from Egypt?”
“I have.” They were very popular in certain circles.
“I’ve set up an atrium where I can grow them, and I’m comparing them to the ones found in Bigsby’s pond. The Egyptian waterlilies require a water temperature of more than twenty degrees in order to germinate. Our native waterlilies can germinate at cooler temperatures, although they’re still sensitive to temperature. Egyptian waterlilies also prefer indirect sunlight. I haven’t determined whether that’s also true of local species yet. Our waterlilies seem to be smaller and hardier, but I plan to record objective data that can be used for a meaningful comparison.”
“Given the different environmental conditions between here and Egypt, it surely makes sense for the plants to flourish under varying circumstances,” she said, thrilled that he wasn’t treating her like a thoughtless ninny.
“Exactly, but I want to find out exactly what those differences are and how we can—”
“I beg your pardon, Miss Dalton, but would you like to dance?”
Irritated, she turned to the interloper, Mr. Selwyn, who was about her age and believed himself better than almost everyone. “I’m afraid I’m speaking with Lord Fitzgerald at the moment.”
Mr. Selwyn’s mouth twisted scornfully. “I’m sure you have more interesting things to do than listen to the life cycle of the waterlily.”
Trevor shrank, and Seraphina narrowed her eyes at the odious man. How dare he be so rude to someone who never intentionally insulted anyone?
“Even if that were the case, I’ve promised him the next dance.”
Trevor’s eyes widened. “Y-you,” he stammered, looking thoroughly confused, “have?”
“Indeed.”
With a departing scowl, Mr. Selwyn strode away, grumbling under his breath.
Trevor leaned close and whispered, “I’m a terrible dancer.”
That surprised a laugh from her. “Trust me. Start walking toward the dance floor with me slowly.”
They took a few steps, and she dramatically stumbled sideways, bumping into a steely-eyed matron as she pretended to roll her ankle.
“Oh no, are you all right?” he gasped, rushing to catch her by the arm and support her weight. The darling man had no idea she was acting. “Let me escort you to a chair. You need to sit down.”
She allowed him to guide her to where Letitia sat in the corner. As they approached, she said quietly, “My ankle is fine, I promise, but now neither of us needs to dance.”
He looked at her admiringly. “You’re rather clever, did you know that?”
She grinned. “I knew I liked you.”
There were two empty chairs on one side of Letitia, so they claimed them, with Trevor in the center.
