Royal Regard

Chapter Twelve, Part 4

The path wound around a glasshouse as large as a ballroom. When they drew up to the side door, she found it unlocked, so looked over her shoulder at him and the trees behind, tightly grasping the handle of the basket, apparently waiting to see if someone would tell her no. He was surprised she would suddenly invite him into the Orangery, filled as it was with celebrated trysting spots, but he wouldn't think of disappointing the lady by declining. He nodded his encouragement, then followed her.

"Would you like to see something of which I am quite proud?" She walked backward before him, her hands and basket clasped behind her back, cheeky grin pulling him along in her wake. The grin was yet another facet to her that he hadn't seen before today, and therefore, more enticing.

"I would be honored, my lady. Lead on."

"I visit every time I am at the palace," she said, turning back to keep an eye on the path.

"I would love nothing more than to know where I might find you when you visit, my lady."

"You are doing it too brown, Your Grace," she said, poking him companionably in the arm. "I've not pulled you into the Orangery for an assignation. I think you will find this of interest as a man of intellect, and as we are passing... I actually know this one part of the garden better than you, I will wager two shillings."

"I am certain that is not true of the Orangery, my lady, but will concede the point rather than steal your pin money."

"I know so much more about this hothouse than you, Sir, such a wager is almost criminal."

She took him down the path through the tropical fruit trees: citron, pineapple, bananas, papaya, mango, all sheltering benches in lush configurations with thick shrubbery and forest ferns, inviting hidden embraces. The number of times Nick had kissed a lady senseless in the Orangery while ensconced in the smell of a Bahamian forest—

"Papaya and mango are almost universally used in native religions to inspire love and romance," she observed.

"What?"

"They are aphrodisiacs, medicinally, so physically and spiritually speaking, this is a very good place for beguiling encounters."

He almost caught her words fast enough to say something romantically inspired, but not quite.

"And these blossoms appear ornamental," she said, holding out a flower he couldn't identify, "but one can cook them down into a very effective treatment for sour stomach. They are quite bitter, which I find rather contradictory."

His brain lurched. "Sour stomach?"

Bella spent the next ten minutes telling him the culinary and medicinal uses of every plant in the tropical herb beds, learned from old native women whose mothers' mothers' mothers had taught them the ten different uses of a fern. Every time she spoke, she told him something new and interesting about the Orangery, and never again did she mention assignations. A pity, as at the mention of aphrodisiacs, he had begun stockpiling romantic nonsense to use next time the topic arose.

Her last turn ended at a simple plot the length and width of two hay wagons, fenced in with sticks and string, tools in a wooden bucket in the corner. It was neat and tidy, but not at all in keeping with any part of Prinny's spectacular garden. There was nothing to which he could point and say, "The rudbeckia is lovely," or "Is that agapanthus?" This ground belonged alongside a two-room peasant cottage, not in the king's solarium.

"Do you work this plot, my lady?"

"No." She paused. "Well, that is not entirely true. Once in a while, I pull a weed or do a bit of watering, but not unless I've been invited."