Mr. Gardiner and the Governess - Sally Britton Page 0,6
was rather comical, given the situation, and Alice bit her bottom lip against a giggle.
“I cannot think why a member of the household, even a governess, would be barred from the gardens.” His forehead wrinkled as he stared at her. “You have some dirt on your cheek. Just here.” He tapped his own left cheek, beneath his eye.
A brief laugh tripped from her at last. “So do you, actually.” She withdrew a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped at her cheek, then held the cloth out to him. He stared at the linen, edged in embroidered rosebuds, as though surprised by it. Then he smiled and shook his head. It was a charming smile, a little crooked on one side.
“I’ll have more than a bit of soil on my cheek by the end of the day. But thank you, Miss Sharpe.”
She tucked the handkerchief away, then cut a glance at the butterfly, now resting with open wings.
“Um.” She took a quick step to the side. “You have a bit more than dirt on your shoulder, too, sir. There is a butterfly—I should not like it to be hurt. May I remove it?” A silly thing to ask, really. But what if he brushed it off and damaged the poor creature?
He stilled, as though her words had turned him into stone—every bit as much of a statue as the Aphrodite who stood above them while they spoke. It has to be Aphrodite, really, given that she is pointing at a bed of Narcissus. Greek myths had captivated Alice during her years of ducking into libraries to avoid the severe criticisms of relatives.
He spoke through barely parted lips, obviously trying to move as little as possible. “Is it white and green?”
Alice blinked up at him. “Yes?” What difference did the color make? And he acted as though she had told him he had a wasp waiting to sting him.
“I have forceps in that box.” He pointed with a finger, not even raising his hand. “They have little nets on either side. Do you think...that is, would you mind using them to capture the butterfly?”
“Netted forceps?” Alice looked down again at the box, then up at the man. “I could use my hands. I will be gentle.”
“No. Humans secrete oils and minerals which would be harmful to the wings. The forceps would be best, please.”
Having never had anyone mention secretions of any kind to her, Alice hesitated while she wondered if she ought to take offense. He had said humans. And it sounded as though his last wish was to hurt the delicate creature. She bent down and reached for the box, pulling it closer to her. If he was trying to minimize his movements, she ought to do the same.
There were many odd things in the box, including small crates lined with netted fabric. But the forceps were easily found. She took them in hand, opened them, and stood slowly. The gardener hadn’t moved at all. Neither had the butterfly.
Alice positioned the netted forceps carefully, then closed them gently over the little creature. It raised its wings as she moved, which seemed to be better for it. Alice brought the little net closer, peering at the butterfly and biting her lip.
“I do hope we haven’t hurt it.”
The antennae continued to move, as did the little legs. Alice let out the breath she had held the moment she captured the creature, rocking back on her heels. She had not crushed it. She raised her gaze to the man in front of her, unable to hold back her grin. “I caught it.”
Rupert rarely interacted with the fairer members of his species for a reason. He had seen more than one Society miss latch onto a gentleman the way a female Mantis religiosa latched onto her mate before eating him. Not that a gentlewoman would literally eat him. But the figurative devouring of his life, his person, his time, and his funds, kept him from fully trusting the women who sent flirtatious smiles his way.
Miss Sharpe’s smile was not at all coy, nor was it calculating. There was only true joy and surprise in her eyes and the curve of her lips. Indeed, her smile grew wide enough that he caught a flash of her teeth—something most women of his acquaintance would rather die than expose for fear of being perceived as vulgar.
When Miss Sharpe grinned, holding the netted forceps in a gentle grasp, he only saw beauty.
Blinking away that thought, Rupert rushed instead to