Page 2 of The Unassuming Curator

“Oh dear. Is he ready to leave?”

“I believe so, miss.”

“Please tell him I will join him immediately.”

“Yes, miss.” The lad pivoted and started back the way he’d come.

The young lady turned to Henry once more. “It appears that I must go. I wish you well with your digging, sir.”

He inclined his head. “And I wish you well on your journey.”

“I confess, meeting a collector of red campions along the way has set this trip apart from all others.” The genuine warmth of her smile caught him off guard. “Good day to you.”

She did not wait for a response. Instead, she hurried after the stableboy and was quickly lost to view around the bend.

Henry stood for a moment, watching the spot where she’d disappeared. Who was she? And who was the nobleman who waited for her? Not the young lady’s husband, certainly, or else the stableboy would have greeted her with a title. A father, perhaps. Or a guardian? And why would a titled gentleman allow a young lady to roam a country lane alone?

The quiet road offered Henry no answers. Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he knelt beside the hedge and began loosening the dirt around the red campion plant with his trowel. The young lady and her escort were of no concern to him, and he had no time to waste. Reaching London before Lord Claridge left the museum may now be an unattainable goal, but arriving first thing in the morning remained a possibility.

Emily Norton slowed her steps as she approached the waiting carriage. She did not need to see the look on her brother, Adam’s, face to know she should not have strayed so far. Up until a month ago, her erstwhile governess and companion, Miss Glover, would have been at her side. But Miss Glover had recently left the household to live in a small cottage near the sea in Cornwall.

Everyone at Dunsbourne Manor—most especially, Emily—hoped the change in climate would relieve the worsening discomfort in the elderly lady’s joints, but Miss Glover’s removal had left an unexpectedly large void that not even Emily’s new sister-in-law, Phoebe, had been able to completely fill. Phoebe was Emily’s dearest friend, but as the mistress of Dunsbourne Manor, she had to divide her time far more than Miss Glover ever had, and over the last few weeks, Emily had become used to wandering the gardens and orchard at Dunsbourne Manor on her own. She should have known that such freedom was not acceptable at an unfamiliar inn.

Clasping her hands together, she met Adam’s disapproving gaze. “Forgive me for keeping you waiting.”

“When you told me you wished to take some air after our meal, I thought you would stay within sight of the carriage,” Adam said.

She caught the censure in his tone even though the words remained unspoken. “I did not go far. Just around the bend to see the wildflowers.”

“You are eighteen years of age, Emily. Surely you are too old to be collecting wildflowers.”

Emily was tempted to tell him there was a gentleman digging up red campions a little farther down the lane who was most certainly older than she was, but she did not think such information would be especially politic at present.

“I should not have gone without speaking to you first,” she said.

He released a frustrated sigh. “You do not need my permission to take a walk, Em, but I cannot have you going about without a companion. Especially when we reach London.”

“I know.”

He must have sensed her contrition, for his expression softened. “You’re not the only one who’d rather be outside than sitting inside a carriage or a parlor.”

She managed a small smile. “I know that too.”

Though the Dunsbourne orchards had turned sufficient profit over the last two years for Adam to hire additional help, he chose to spend much of his time working alongside his gardener among the apple trees. If it weren’t for his overriding sense of duty to introduce Emily into London Society, he would be there still.

“Come,” he said, offering her his hand.

She stepped into the carriage. Phoebe was already inside and gave Emily an understanding look as she took the seat across from her.

“We may be hard pressed to find Adam an orchard in the center of town, but there are parks aplenty,” Phoebe said. “You will love the spring flowers at Hyde Park. I daresay they will be in full bloom within a fortnight.”

“I agree.” Adam had followed Emily into the carriage and sat beside his wife. “And I have no doubt Lady Millward will happily provide a servant to accompany you, should you ever wish to go somewhere while I am working or Phoebe is resting.”

The carriage lurched into motion, and Emily nodded. She’d been looking forward to seeing the sights of London almost as much as she’d been dreading her launch into Society. Their original departure date had been delayed for months: first, by the late apple harvest, and second, by concerns over Phoebe’s health. Only the joyful discovery that her prolonged illness was due to the fact that she was expecting a baby had offset Phoebe’s disappointment at postponing their arrival in London.

Despite her need for rest and her uneasy stomach, however, Phoebe had continued to tutor Emily in the niceties of high Society. Emily now knew the steps of every dance and the rules of comportment at musical evenings and the theater. She’d learned what were considered acceptable topics of conversation with a lady or a gentleman, and she’d gained sufficient knowledge of current fashions to enter a social setting with confidence. And yet, the mere thought of being the subject of attention at one large event after another caused her stomach to roil. She knew full well that the country balls she’d attended over the last eighteen months were hardly a match for the ones held in London. And those events had been trying enough.

She forced her thoughts elsewhere. “What type of occupation would require someone to collect red campion?” she asked.