Discovery of Desire (28 page)

For an instant, he was so muddled, his arms lifted off her.

The sight of a lady in that dress pressed against him—the white shoulders, the dark fringe of eyelashes against her cheek, the expensive silk—jarred him. It was a little like looking through a cracked mirror.

He loved her. This was his Minnie.

Yet this lady, this fine and beautiful lady, held him like
this
. Like she wasn't embarrassed by what she was doing or embarrassed by him. Like holding him was the most important, and the most natural, thing she should be doing. If he never had another moment like this, he'd still count himself the most blessed man on earth.

And it came to him in another jolt of surprise: he was loved completely.

He was the furthest thing from cursed a man could be.

She checked his face, looking bashful. Maybe because he was staring down at her, dumbstruck. “I am so excited to see the flowers you found, Seth,” she said. “I like to imagine you finding them. You, striding through the jungle, with perfumed flowers dangling from the canopy of the forest like a necklace of jewels. And you walk by every one, no matter how beautiful they are, because you're looking for that one splendid orchid that's hiding.”

He bent his head closer and kissed her, because he needed to do that more than he needed his next breath. “How did you know, pretty?”

She shook her head, smiling. “Don't tease. It was just a daydream.” She grew serious. “I know finding them and harvesting the seeds was so much more difficult than I could imagine. Only you would be strong enough to do such a thing.”

God, she always saw him as so much more than he was. But wasn't there a little truth in that? The Skinner brothers wouldn't have survived a week in the jungles he'd traveled. And they'd thought they could just take his hard work. All the time and sacrifice and waiting. All the fear and all the passion. And all his pride.

And he'd almost let them.

The bitterness tightened and coiled up and down his abdomen, his hips, his jaw. Then he drew it into his lungs and exhaled it from his body. Mina deserved the best man he could be. He may not be rich or even all that smart, but he wouldn't be anything so useless as angry. He could at least give her that.

He bent down and, keeping his back to the world behind them, kissed Minnie long and gently. The way she seemed to like best.

He could give her that, too.

“Ladies, gentlemen,” a member of Chiswick's staff announced, “the auction of ornamentals is to begin in the pavilion. You are invited to take advantage of the opportunity to acquire some of the highest-quality specimens.”

To his surprise, the liveried man gestured to where he stood. “And we are joined by the plant hunter, himself. The explorer, Mr. Seth Mayhew.”

The lofty audience acquiesced to his presence, murmuring with genteel approval.

“Seth?” Mina's voice was concerned, but her warm, brown eyes glowed up at him. “Are you ready?”

He straightened and smiled down at her. And he stood even taller with her on his arm. “I'm ready, pretty.” He smiled. “I'm finally ready.”

The interior of the pavilion was cool for as many bodies as it held. Ladies in their wide gowns and gentlemen in their elegant schemes of black and white filled nearly every seat. She and Seth sat in two of the few empty chairs near the back wall, beside the intimidating Marchioness Wynston.

At the front, a long table displayed an array of stunning orchids and vibrantly colored blooms. Through an opening in the tent, she could see a line of labeled pots holding a veritable jungle of Seth's other flowers. How would Seth bear this?

She slipped her hand into his. Seth was perched on the edge of his chair, his attention riveted to the front of the room, but he lifted her hand for a kiss before settling it back in his lap.

Her free hand sought her charm in the pocket of her gown, and the sight of the red-orange silk jolted her again. Her first red dress.

She arranged it carefully around her, unable to resist stroking the lustrous fabric. The gown was the most beautiful creation she'd ever seen and, after Seth's two hundred pounds, the most generous gift anyone had ever given her.

She would sell it tomorrow—it was the height of fashion. And as beautiful as it was, she couldn't keep something so valuable. Not when the dress would fetch what she could earn in a year.

Her family and Seth would need every shilling.

“You look most charming, Wilhelmina,” Lady Wynston said.

She had to swallow before speaking to the marchioness. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Who is your modiste, my dear?”

“Oh, I don't… I could never afford such a service. Mrs. Repton gave this to me as a”—her voice broke—“a gift.”

Lady Wynston arched a brow, but her faded blue eyes were warm and smiling. “Then I greatly approve her choice, my dear. Clever Charlotte—such an excellent notion for today. My dear, you would have found the Society far less welcoming had you chosen more modest attire. The
ton
cannot separate a girl from her dress.”

Lady Wynston wasn't at all what she expected of the Upper Circles. But then, neither was Charlotte.

Mina sat a little taller in her chair. She wore an exquisite gown, and no one would fault her appearance as Seth's particular friend. She would not want to add to the hardship of his day. Not that Seth seemed at all depressed or even angry. He seemed rather nervous, actually. Even excited.

A rumble of eagerness swept through the tent. One of the gardeners was carrying in a glorious basket with a towering arrangement of fuchsia-and-coral-mottled orchids. Her breath caught at their otherworldly beauty and, to her horror, she had to blink rapidly to hide the tears in her eyes.

Seth must have seen the emotion, for he smiled down at her. “It doesn't pain me to see them, Minnie.”

Her throat tight, she could only nod and smile weakly.

“I remember the moment I first saw those blossoms. The excitement of seeing them and knowing they were rare, thinking no one in England had ever seen such a thing. It doesn't pain me to see 'em sold. There isn't a man or woman who can ever own what nature creates anyway.

“For a simple man like me, the finding is enough.” He dipped his head to whisper in her ear. “Until I found the rarest flower of all right on a wharf in Bombay”—he lowered his voice to a deep croon—“and I'm still not flirting with you, pretty.”

That drew a real smile from her. She hadn't realized how much she'd dreaded this moment, how sad she was feeling for him. And he was trying to comfort
her
.

“No matter what happens today, Minnie, we'll be fine, won't we?”

She forced herself to hold his smiling gaze. And lied. “Yes, Seth. We'll be fine.”

He lifted her hand to kiss it again, but Lady Wynston tapped his lap with her fan. “Cease your lovemaking, young man. The auction is to start, and I find the sight of young lovers far too diverting.”

Mina heated with embarrassment and straightened in her chair, but Seth would not release her hand. She would not let him feel her shake. With a centering breath, she clamped down on her jangling nerves.

The auction master stepped up to his pulpit, and the room quieted.

“Welcome ladies and gentleman,” the auctioneer said. “The first offering…”

And Minnie clenched her eyes shut. Species and origins and flower parts were presented in Latin, and then it was time.

“Will any gentleman start the bid at forty pounds?” the auctioneer asked.

“One hundred,” a voice at the front said.

Her eyes flew open.

“One and twenty,” a voice called at the right.

“One and forty.” A hand flicked to her left.

She looked at Seth, who sat stiffly upright, his body all rapt attention. “Seth,” she whispered in his ear. “They didn't start at forty.”

He turned a stunned face to her, a smile tugging at his lips, and whispered back, “No, they didn't.”

“
Two hundred
,” a voice called from a few rows ahead.

She swung her eyes forward, her head pivoting from one bidder to the next. Until—“Goodness,” she breathed. “Did he say four hun—?”

“
Five
hundred,” a bidder called from the right.

Her stomach plunged, but she looked at Seth and said gently, “It doesn't matter, Seth.”

His eyes were tracking the bidders. “It does though, Minnie.”

“
Six
,” a voice in the front barked.

Six?
She swayed and leaned against his shoulder.

That caught his attention. He bent to look into her face. “Minnie? What's wrong?”

Wrong? She shook her head and tried a wobbly smile. “No, nothing, Seth. My head is just a little swimmy.”

“
Eight hundred
.”

Her jaw dropped and her head spun to stare at the bidder, who was stroking his side-whiskers serenely, as though he'd not committed enough money
for a flower
to feed her whole family for the rest of their lives.

But she could not fall apart in front of Seth. She could be mighty—she
would
be. Straightening her spine, she grasped his large hand between both of hers and smoothed her expression.

And then Seth surprised her by kissing her temple. “My God, I
do
love you, Minnie.”

Something warm and bracing flooded her, and she whispered back, “I love you, too.”

“Eight hundred and fifty.” The auctioneer was holding up his gavel. “Will no gentleman advance the bid? And twice…?” He raised the gavel higher. “And…
sold
to Lord Putman for eight hundred fifty pounds. Congratulations, my lord.”

“Lud, eight hundred fifty,” Lady Wynston murmured, plying her fan. “For a pretty stalk of petals. I should think that proof of a violent insanity if I had not witnessed Cavendish spend similar amounts in the past. I am rich, of course, but the
very
rich are a different breed entire.”

Mina nodded mutely, and Seth flopped back in his chair, a huge smile on his face.

“And that was the first one!” he roared, and burst into laughter.

And she nearly heaved up her breakfast porridge.

“Wilhelmina, dear girl?” Lady Wynston hoisted a brow at her. “You are looking entirely bloodless. I will endeavor to amuse you.”

Amuse me…?
But her attention was diverted back to the front. Another gardener set down a short trellis covered with a climbing vine bursting with crimson blooms. And her heart sank.

They were glorious.

“Gentlemen, we begin at fifty pounds.” The auctioneer rapped his gavel to begin.

“Do watch, Wilhelmina.” Lady Wynston raised her fan. “Seventy,” she proclaimed in her queenly voice, before turning back to her. “The
ton
are as easily led as wagon horses, dear girl, and they will not let an ancient woman best them in any matter. It is my joyful calling, making such
superior
gentlemen”—she raised her fan—“
ninety
—feel their inferiority. And they resist with such zeal.” She raised her fan, advancing the bid another fifty pounds. “Actually, I do rather want these flowers.”

She nodded mutely as the bidding intensified. Two hundred…then, three…four and seventy…five hundred—

“Six hundred,” Lady Wynston intoned.

A richly dressed older woman cast a withering stare at Lady Wynston and tipped her own ivory fan a fraction. “Seven.”

Seven?

Lady Wynston sighed. “There never existed on earth a more disagreeable animal in female form than Lady Gertrude. She must be made to pay dearly.” She raised her fan.

The auctioneer nodded at her. “Eight hundred, to her ladyship.”

“Eight hundred?” Mina repeated weakly.

“Indeed.” Lady Wynston sniffed. “Do watch Lady Gertrude, my dear. Her dour face proclaims she will not have these flowers for a shilling—”

“Nine hundred,” Lady Gertrude declared.

“—and yet she bids,” Lady Wynston said.

The auction master raised his hammer. “Nine hundred once…? And two times…? And…”—he nodded to Lady Gertrude—“and to Lady Gertrude for nine hundred. Congratulations, my lady.”

Lady Wynston sniffed. “
Wagon horses
.”

And to Mina's horror, it continued for the next several lots. The numbers rose higher and higher, and Seth was jotting down each winning bid.

She squeezed his arm gently. “Seth, perhaps you shouldn't take an accounting.”

“Have to, Minnie. I can't keep all these figures in my head.”

“No, I think—”

“Minnie.” His voice rumbled low and sweetly, and it stilled her tongue. “Don't you worry about me, pretty. I just need a moment…”

His pencil stilled and his eyes widened. He showed her the numbers. “Is that sum right, pretty?”

“Seth, it doesn't matter—”

“It does, Minnie. It matters.”

His eyes implored her to look, so she did. And whether the calculation was correct or not, she could not add to know. Her eyes were locked on the sum. She breathed deep, her voice wavering. “Eight thousand pounds, fifteen shillings?”

And the auction was only on lot fifteen of eighty.

Hot tears sprang to her eyes, and Seth jumped to his feet, reaching for her hand to pull her up. “I'm sorry, pretty,” he said roughly. “You've had enough of this.”

She nodded hard, rather than speak. If she spoke, she'd burst into tears for his loss.

Seth handed his accounting to Will and whispered for him to keep track. Outside the tent, the spring sunshine was blinding, coloring the grass, trees, and sky the most head-spinning colors.

“Can you wander a little ways, Minnie?” Seth asked, putting a supporting arm around her shoulders.

She blinked her eyes to focus and breathed deep. Seth needed her to be strong. “Of course.” She smiled—convincingly she hoped.

But Seth grimaced at the attempt. “Ah, pretty, it's all right.”

He guided her through the throng of aristocrats beside the stream, and deeper into the garden until they found themselves overlooking a secluded, serene garden. Tiers of flawless green lawn surrounded a circular pool of water with an obelisk rising from the center. A picturesque stone pavilion rose opposite where they stood, but the most impressive element was the symmetrical arrangement of orange trees in their large Chinese urns circling the water.

The garden was the loveliest place she'd ever been. And yet, even with the man she loved beside her, and wearing the most beautiful gown, she was so…disappointed. In her life. In the world. In how
hard
it all was. And the worst of it…was how afraid she was of what came next.

People had no choice but to ignore the fear, or they would never leave their beds. But she was standing in a garden, in the loveliest place she'd ever been, and she had a brand new fear.

Because the only thing she felt was disappointment.

Seth held her hand and pulled her nearer the pond. “This is the Orange Tree Garden. It's been here since the seventeen hundreds.”

The orange blossoms scented the air. She'd never seen oranges growing on their branches. “They don't seem real, do they?” she murmured.

“I thought they were pretty.” He swallowed, suddenly seeming shy and nervous.

Dear Seth…he wanted her to share in his pleasure of this garden, this day, his flowers. And she couldn't smile for him.

“And I thought it the right place to tell you my plan,” he said.

She stilled. “Today? Here?”

“I thought here was pretty.”

Her heart ached in her chest. His plan. For her, for them, for their future. It was going to be hard for them to be together. How long would they have to wait? How would she bear not seeing him every day?

“Minnie”—his smile broke out across his face—“I need to make sure I say this just right and not talk in six different directions.”

She took his hand. “I love all the ways and directions you talk.”

His eyes crinkled with his smile and—
oh God, thank you
—the ocean-green of his eyes sparkled, and the sunlight was soft on her shoulders, and the citrus trees were like perfume. And the auction didn't matter at all. Or the Skinners, who had betrayed him.

She was grateful. And she was peaceful. And all the fear shrank back into the shadows. Love
did
matter. Because love made you mighty. Mighty enough to remind you that fear wasn't really…
real
.

But love was.

“Minnie—”

“Seth, first”—she clutched his hand—“may I talk first?”

He closed his mouth and nodded, a small smile on his lips.

She straightened her spine and spoke, clear and firm. “We have one hundred seventy-nine pounds, and I think I should move with you to your cottage in Derbyshire because I don't ever want to be apart from you. And I'll work at one of the mills in Chesterfield. My sisters will have to come, I'm afraid, but they'll work, too.