Page 10 of The Botanist’s Improper Bride

He wished that sort of interaction was unusual for him, but unfortunately, he was accustomed to making a fool of himself. It was part of the reason he’d never dreamed that Seraphina might welcome his suit.

She was a diamond of the ton. He couldn’t even manage a basic conversation.

Thanks to his own internal mental castigation, the ride to Wembley House passed more quickly than he would have liked. When he arrived, he didn’t make it farther than the entrance before his mother barreled into the room, her arms open, and wrapped him in a firm embrace.

“You sly thing,” she said as she drew back, her hands on his shoulders as she looked him in the eyes. “I had no idea you were interested in Miss Dalton.”

“Let the poor boy go, Nancy,” his father said, descending the stairs behind her. Where his mother was tall for a woman, stocky and loud, Lord Wembley was slender and soft-spoken, much like Trevor.

With a gusty sigh, Lady Wembley released him, and he shared a quick hug with his father. Neither of them was prone to physical affection, but the lady of the house had trained them well.

His mother planted her hand on the small of his back and ushered him up the stairs. “What is it that attracted you to her?”

“She’s incredibly intelligent,” he said, allowing himself to be dragged along the corridor toward the room that had been prepared for him.

Lady Wembley’s laughter boomed through the enclosed space. “You might be the only man in London who wants to marry her for that reason.”

He flushed, well aware that Seraphina was also beautiful. Of course he liked the way she looked, with her sweetly curved figure and her lovely blue eyes, but she was so beautiful that it was also a hindrance because it meant that all of the men who might otherwise be too stupid to see what a gem she was wanted her anyway.

“I worry that I’m not an equal match for her,” he admitted as they stopped outside his bedchamber.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re a future earl from an old and respected family. She’s a jilted, untitled miss who can’t afford to be selective right now.”

He pulled a face. “I don’t like the idea of her marrying me because she has no other choice.”

He didn’t need her love, although he would welcome it, but he would at least like to know that he had her good regard. Still, just as she couldn’t afford to be choosy, neither could he. There was only one woman he could envision marrying, so he needed to accept her in whatever form she came.

Lady Wembley’s expression softened, and she patted his arm. “She won’t. She likes you, which puts you ahead of some of the other candidates, and I’ll take you shopping so you’re fashionably dressed. Miss Dalton is always so stylish. I’m sure she’ll be drawn to a suitor who’s also interested in fashion.”

Trevor fought the urge to grimace. Not only did the thought of misrepresenting himself make him want to be sick, but the prospect of enduring a shopping trip with his mother made him want to lock himself in his room and hide.

Still, he wanted Seraphina, so he had to be willing to do what was necessary to win her over. Since he had no idea how to woo any woman—let alone one that half of London admired—that meant taking any advantage he could possibly get.

Even if it sounded like his definition of hell.

“Thank you, Mother.” The words were forced, but unfortunately there was nothing he could do about that. He’d never been very good at pretending.

“I’m thrilled to do anything I can to help.” She beamed. “I’m just so pleased that you’ve finally taken interest in marrying, and Miss Dalton would make a delightful daughter-in-law.”

She muttered something else he didn’t quite catch, although there was a wicked gleam in her eye that promised it hadn’t been anything good. He didn’t think it was directed at him, though, so he didn’t ask her to repeat herself.

He grabbed the door handle, uncertain whether she intended to come in, but he hoped she wouldn’t. He liked keeping his private space private.

“Why didn’t you express an interest when she first debuted?” she asked, one hand propped on her hip.

Trevor snorted. “Because she’s brilliant and stunning and never gets confused about what she’s supposed to do or say. I didn’t think she’d look at me that way, and it was only when I learned of her engagement that I realized how strongly I felt about her and decided that it’s worth the risk of rejection.”

Not that he would take it well if he failed. He liked to be good at things. It wouldn’t surprise him if he did fail, though, because social situations were the one arena in which he had always fallen short.

That said, the fact that he’d practically locked himself in his office and worked for three days straight when he received Miss Carruthers’s letter informing him of the betrothal spoke volumes. Losing Seraphina again would be unendurable. He might not be a naturally outgoing man, but nor was he a coward. He wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

“Well said. I’ll make plans for us to go shopping tomorrow. I imagine you need to rest after your long journey.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” It was more consideration than he’d expected.

She patted his arm again and turned away. He let himself into the bedchamber, crossed the floor in a few strides, and collapsed onto the bed, making sure his feet didn’t touch the bedclothes.

Closing his eyes, he lay there until his mind quietened, then, concerned he might fall asleep if he didn’t move, he dragged himself up and ordered a bath.