Tempting the Footman (House of Devon #5) - Lauren Smith Page 0,22

to set him in her path. He is in need of a wife with deep pockets.”

“Oh? What if he brought her some flowers or some other token of interest? I daresay she would see it as very romantic, and he would have a chance to catch her attention without the other gentlemen around.”

“That is an excellent idea. I shall tell Peregrine that. I’m sure that Lady Devon would part with some roses—she has so many in the hothouse.”

An idea came to Adrian at the lady’s suggestion. It filled him with a silly hope that he could do something to please Lady Venetia the way a proper gentleman would. He knew he shouldn’t leave his post, but if he was smart about it, he could leave Benjamin in charge for a short while.

Adrian glanced at Benjamin. “I need to see to Lady Venetia. You have it handled here?”

Benjamin nodded. “Go on, I’ll be fine.”

“Thank you.” Adrian slipped out of the corridor, emboldened with an idea. He wanted to bring Lady Venetia flowers, but real ones, not ones grown in the hothouse. He had an hour before he needed to return to her, so he went into the gardens and took his time speaking with the gardener, Mr. Paisley, who helped him cut several of the finest rose blooms and dozens of wildflowers. Adrian brought the bouquet inside the servants’ hall and headed to the housekeeper’s parlor.

Mrs. Miller was reviewing account books as he entered. The housekeeper, formerly Lady Devon’s maid, had taken over after the previous housekeeper had departed. She was close to his own age. She was smart and capable as well.

“Are those for me?” Mrs. Miller teased when she saw the bouquet.

“I . . . No, but I was hoping to enlist your help. Would you happen to have a bit of ribbon or fabric to bind the stems together?” Adrian inquired.

“I might.” She rose from her desk and went to a chest of drawers, pulling the top one open. It was full of odds and ends, with plenty of ribbon. She selected one that was a deep red, which matched the fattest rose blooms, and bound the bouquet up for him. Adrian felt wildly boyish with excitement.

“Let me guess. These are for Lady Venetia?” Mrs. Miller asked.

“Yes. I suppose everyone belowstairs must know of my temporary assignment by now.”

Mrs. Miller laughed. “Nothing stays a secret long belowstairs.”

“Thank you for the ribbon. You shall be remembered in song and story through the ages.” He smiled at the young housekeeper, and she shoved him out of her office with a laugh.

Adrian returned to Lady Venetia’s room, his heart filled with a strange, fluttering excitement. He halted at her door, which was partially open, and heard a man’s voice from within.

“. . . heard that you were poorly, Lady Venetia. I brought a gift for you.”

“Oh my. These are very lovely flowers, Mr. Sherman. I shall send my maid out for a vase in a moment.”

“You are most welcome, Lady Venetia. I thought you might be missing the gardens while you are confined up here.”

“I am indeed.”

“I also thought you might enjoy this.” Mr. Sherman offered Lady Venetia a small velvet box. She opened it, and her eyes widened at whatever lay inside before she lifted her gaze to the gentleman.

“Oh, it is too precious,” Lady Venetia gasped. “I cannot . . .”

“Please, I insist. It is a gift for you since you have brightened this party for me immensely.”

Whatever Mr. Sherman had brought her must be exquisite and expensive—far above anything Adrian could ever give her.

Adrian’s heart sank. The flowers slipped from his fingers to the floor. He turned away and retreated back to the domain he’d been born into. The place where he would always belong.

I was a fool to think . . . A fool to dream.

Venetia did her best to have an interesting conversation with Mr. Sherman, one of the gentlemen attending the house party. The bouquet of flowers from Lady Devon’s hothouse now sat in a vase on the table between them.

“Dreadful thing to turn one’s ankle,” Mr. Sherman said. “Done it myself as a lad.” His eyes, a warm brown, were friendly enough, and his face was kind. He was one and thirty, with a decent estate attached to his name. He was polite, kind, seemed to value her thoughts and opinions, and was very attractive. Mr. Sherman was a man worth marrying, but the fire she’d experienced with Adrian simply wasn’t there.

“If you feel