Lord Monroe's Dark Tower: The Albright Sisters: Book 2 Read Online Free

himself she wasn’t a medically minded bluestocking. “Are you interested in herbal remedies, my lord?”
    A troubled look came into his eyes. He rolled the daffodil between thumb and pointer then shrugged. “Perhaps.”
    “Well, jonquils make your hands itch and turn scaly.” Flavian looked surprised. “I’d toss that back if I were you.”
    He dropped the stalk into its bed. “Such a lovely flower possessing such sinister qualities … ”
    Steering her away from the patch of daffodils, he brought her to a square of herbs. “Now, come tell me everything you know about the rest of these innocent looking plants.”
    “That would be a very long conversation, indeed,” Claire said.
    He hesitated, seeming to consider something. “You’re to make your come out this season, aren’t you?”
    “Oh dear, yes.”
    “Don’t you want to?”
    Claire’s palms grew moist. “The truth is, crowds unnerve me. I’m not looking forward to London at all.”
    He laughed. “Then you don’t mind stopping with me for a little while?”
    “I feel as if I’ve won a reprieve, temporary though it may be,” she said, sensing the heat spreading to her cheeks. “I’m disinclined to be on display.”
    “It’s unnerving for both sexes.”
    “Ah, but the men hold all the cards.”
    He scratched his chin. “That’s funny; I always feel the women have the power.”
    “But the men do the asking.”
    “And the women do the refusing.”
    They laughed together, and Claire sensed their emotions loop one around the other in a combination as sweet as butter and honey.
    Feeling as fully blossomed as a peony, she eyed Flavian, tucked a hand beneath her chin, and swayed back and forth. If she didn’t say something soon, she’d kiss him. For the sake of modesty, she looked down, but couldn’t stop the gentle sway of her body. “At any rate, the idea of parading about trawling for a husband … ”
    “I quite understand,” Flavian said, huskily. The hum of insects, busy in the hot sun, grew in intensity. He pivoted away, exhaled, and then bending down, snapped a single flower from a blue hyacinth.
    “How about this flower and its healing properties … ? Actually, that’s not of interest right now. Come with me a moment.” Taking her arm, he led her into a secluded alcove. A corset of lilac and forsythia shielded the area completely from the household windows. “Would you care to sit a moment?” he asked.
    Claire noticed that his breath had quickened and his movements grown choppy.
Nerves?
She wondered.
Was he about to ask permission to court her?
Heart fluttering, she sat on the cool marble bench and laid the peony across her lap. He positioned himself next to her, his body so near she could feel his nervous energy.
    “Let me look at you first,” he said. Obliging, she turned towards him, but couldn’t face him for the pounding in her heart. He took her hand — his fingers, dry and callused. Claire lowered her gaze and smoothed her skirt. “Claire, it’s so wonderful to see you again. You’ve been in my thoughts constantly these two years … ” He broke off, shaking his head and releasing her hand.
    Fear clamped her chest. Healing was a concern to him. What a fool she’d been to admit to it. The
ton
never opened its doors to a woman with serious interests. “What a silly goose I am,” she said.
    “You?” Surprise registered on his face. “If anyone’s the goose in this garden, it would be me. No, I’ve brought you here because … of course … I enjoy your company.” He cleared his throat. “And … and I’m hoping you can help me.”
    A thin stream of disappointment darted through her bones.
You had no right to expect a request
, she scolded herself.
You’re just dismayed you still have to go to London
. She lifted her chin and heartily replied, “If there’s something I can do, it would be an honor.”
    “What a grand lady you are,” he said. He took a deep breath and turned away. All at once, he