“And nosy,” she told him slyly.
Matthew grinned. He’d been right to look forward to seeing her again.
“I thought you said he always scowled,” the youngest Townsbridge, whom Matthew believed was called William, told his oldest brother. The middle brother - James, was it? - promptly stepped on William’s foot. “Ouch!”
Miss Townsbridge rolled her eyes, sighed, and swept her hand in her brothers’ direction. “Allow me to introduce Misters Charles, James, and William Townsbridge.” She made a face at them - the sort that seemed to warn they’d better behave. Matthew pressed his lips together while she gestured toward him next and said, “His Grace, the Duke of Brunswick.”
Matthew dipped his head toward his hopefully soon-to-be brothers-in-law and exchanged a few more pleasantries with them before addressing the only person present in whom he had any interest. “Would you like refreshment before we take a closer look at the folly?”
“Perhaps after?” Miss Townsbridge peeked past him at the part of the garden she could glimpse from where they stood. “I’m rather eager to get started.”
“As you wish,” he said and offered his arm. Her interest in his project pleased him more than he would have expected.
“The fish was excellent by the way,” she told him as they took the few steps leading down to the neatly trimmed lawn.
“Truly?”
Miss Townsbridge nodded. “I actually brought you a piece so you can try it. Your butler had a maid deliver it to your cook.”
Warmth crept under his skin on account of her thoughtfulness. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“It only seemed fair considering all the trouble you went to in order to catch it.” Her lips twitched. “In fact, I am almost relieved to see you looking so well.”
“Why Miss Townsbridge, do I finally sense a bit of remorse over the spill I took?”
“It can’t have surprised you.” He raised an eyebrow and she added, “You were wrestling a large, slippery carp while standing in a lake. Your fall was expected, but yes, I would have felt slightly bad if you’d also caught your death.”
It was impossible not to find humor in her dry wit. So Matthew rewarded her with another one of his reacquired smiles. “Only slightly?”
“Well,” she said with a prim little sniff. “Anything more would suggest I might care about you, and that, my dear duke, would only go to your head.”
Matthew’s chest expanded with pleasure. He genuinely liked her. So much it almost seemed a pity to marry only to try and avoid her.
But what choice did he have? She was the woman he wanted, the one he’d spent two years selecting. He couldn’t walk away now - didn’t want to. But neither could he risk the threat she posed to his heart, for if there was one thing he could not ignore, it was how easy it would be to love her.
He clenched his jaw and tried to rid himself of that terrifying possibility. All he had to do was romance her a bit. Just enough to convince her to change her mind. It shouldn’t take long. Certainly not as long as it would for him to develop those dangerous feelings he’d sworn he’d never fall prey to again. As long as he focused on his goal and kept a clear head, he’d be fine.
“DID YOU REALLY BUILD this yourself?” Sarah asked as they drew closer to the folly. She’d only glimpsed the left side of it from the terrace due to the coniferous trees flanking the edge.
“It’s not complete, but yes. No one else has placed a single stone.”
Pride filled his voice, as well it should. Sarah wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been this perfectly crafted wall made to look like it was centuries old. Uneven along the edge, as if some of the stone had corroded with time, it rose up to join with an overhead arch.
Like a child eager to explore, she let go of his arm and passed underneath to a neatly paved courtyard containing a pit filled with firewood at its center. Partly melted candles were placed in nooks around the periphery, promising a magical escape after dark.
“I’m quite impressed,” Charles said, speaking to Brunswick as the men joined her. “You clearly put a great deal of thought and effort into this.”
“All it’s missing now is the last bench,” Sarah said, noting that only three had been completed.
“My plan is to start on that next,” Brunswick said while leaning one shoulder against a pillar. His gaze followed Sarah as she continued observing the structure.
“I could use a retreat like this in my garden,” James said. “My wife would love it. Might you be willing to make another, Brunswick?”
Brunswick responded with a wry grin. “Not a chance.”
Sarah smiled while giving her attention to the far corner. She allowed her hand to slide over the stones Brunswick had carried and hauled into position. “You should plant some fragrant climbers, Your Grace. I can just picture this wall overgrown with honeysuckle. Imagine it spilling over the top edge right there and–”
“No.”
His clipped tone caused her to turn and look at him with surprise. A muscle in his jaw flexed. “There won’t be any honeysuckle or any other plants for that matter.”
“But–”
“I believe I promised refreshments. After you, Miss Townsbridge.”
Sarah only hesitated for the amount of time it took to give her brothers a questioning look. When Charles jutted his chin in the direction they’d come, she started forward while trying not to feel too put out.
It was only a suggestion, she wanted to say. Brunswick needn’t be so curt. Glancing back, she saw that he walked alone right behind James and William, but it was his dark expression that tore at her heart. Something in her words had put a severe damper on his mood.
“Do you think we ought to make our excuses and leave?” she asked Charles. Her brother had fallen into step beside her right before they reached the terrace.
“That depends entirely on you and how much you care,” he told her softly.
Sarah watched Brunswick’s scowl deepen. “Then I suppose we’re staying. Shall we sit?”
Charles pulled out a chair for Sarah. She was just sitting down when the rest of the party arrived, all of them claiming a seat. Except for Brunswick.
“I’ll call for some tea,” the duke said, not breaking his stride as he disappeared into the house.
“I think His Grace may have an aversion to honeysuckle,” William whispered.
Sarah glared at him. “Be quiet.”
“It does seem a bit odd,” James murmured.
“Shut up,” Charles hissed.
A maid appeared in the next instant, carrying a tray filled with cups, saucers, a teapot, and a plate containing some tasty looking biscuits. Brunswick, however, remained absent.
“I’m going to find the necessary,” Sarah informed her brothers several minutes later when Brunswick still hadn’t returned and most of the biscuits had been eaten.
“One of us should go with you,” James said.
Sarah turned to him. “Absolutely not.”
“You can’t go alone.” James turned to Charles. “Tell her it wouldn’t be proper.”
Charles met Sarah’s gaze and smiled. “She’s a grown woman. I think she can manage a visit to the necessary on her own.”