Page 63 of The Botanist’s Improper Bride

“Yes, miss.”

He left, and she rose from her seat. “I’ll get my pelisse. I’ll be back momentarily.”

She headed upstairs with Bessie, and a few minutes later, they rejoined Trevor and Mark, each clad in warmer clothes to venture outside.

They took the carriage through town to the meeting spot outside the church and waited until her contact appeared. All around, people were going about their business, but more than a handful stopped to stare at the carriage, which was much too nice for the area.

Mark opened the carriage door and helped her down, and Trevor stayed close by her side as they crossed the road.

The church caretaker glanced at Trevor with a curious mix of wariness and fascination. “This is a new companion.”

“My betrothed, Lord Fitzgerald,” Seraphina introduced, intentionally not giving the other man’s name. He helped coordinate many efforts to help the poor and disadvantaged, and not all of them were strictly legal.

The man sketched a deep bow. “A pleasure to meet you, my lord.”

Trevor dipped his head in acknowledgment. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Niceties exchanged, the man turned back to Seraphina. “Please tell me that this business with the unfounded accusation won’t stop you from making medicine for those who need it.”

“I—”

“I truly think there’s been a misunderstanding,” he continued, cutting off Seraphina’s response. “I’ve never heard of anything you provided causing any issues, and it’s saved a good many people.”

Something loosened inside Seraphina upon hearing those words. Deep down, she knew she’d done everything she could to produce the safest, purest medicine possible, but part of her had feared that maybe she wasn’t as clever as she liked to think.

“It’s a relief to hear you say so,” she told him. “I don’t plan to stop, but I can’t promise that I won’t be forced to if things turn out badly.”

As briefly as possible, she explained the situation to him, including the details she’d excluded from her previous letter.

“This Mr. Emerson sounds like an unpleasant character,” he replied, his nose turned up. “I wouldn’t trust him. It’s clear he has an ulterior motive.”

“I hope you’re right. Lord Fitzgerald and I want to gather data so we have evidence as to whether or not he might be telling the truth.” She withdrew the letter from where it had been stored in her dress and handed it to him. “Would you mind getting in touch with your network to ask a few questions?”

“Whatever you need.” His tone was completely earnest. “You do a lot of good. It’d be a shame if someone ruined that.”

Trevor grumbled something uncomplimentary about Mr. Emerson under his breath. Seraphina caught a few words, but not the whole thing.

The caretaker smiled warmly at him. “I must say I agree. I hope you’ll support Miss Dalton through this trial. You’re a lucky man to be marrying such an incredible woman.”

Trevor’s tight expression softened slightly. “I know.”

Seraphina’s heart pitter-pattered happily.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, she reminded the foolish organ. He might regret his support if anything goes wrong.

She really hoped he didn’t.

CHAPTER 22

Trevor checked his reflection one final time and adjusted his cravat with a grimace. It always felt like the deuced things were trying to strangle him, but he needed to look the part of Future Earl for the role he intended to play, and that meant being appropriately attired.

All right. His hair was smoothed down, his clothes had been chosen by his mother, and there were no ink stains on his hands or face.

This was as good as it was likely to get.

Sending his reflection an awkward smile, he drew in a deep breath to fortify himself, strode out to his carriage, and gave the driver an address.

As the carriage trundled away from Wembley House, he internally recited the different types of wheat in an effort to focus. Nerves clustered in his gut, and a bead of sweat trickled down his lower back.