3. Diamond in the Rough by Jane Goodger

Author:Jane Goodger [Goodger, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-06T19:45:20+00:00

Chapter 8

“You are in a fine mood today,” Clara said, noting her sister’s high color and general bon vivant spirit.

“I am having luncheon with my friends,” she said, gazing in the mirror and adjusting the ribbon beneath her chin. Harriet, who had not seemed to mind what she looked like, had of late been taking a bit more care with her appearance. Perhaps her friends were having a positive influence. “Would you like to come with me? The girls miss you, you know.”

“The girls” were Harriet’s group of friends—Alice, Rebecca, and Eliza. Clara often had accompanied Harriet to her outings with them, but had never felt part of their group. Today was a gloriously sunny day and she already heard the sound of Mr. Emory’s hoe in the soil. Despite their awkward meeting the previous day when she’d been on Lord Berkley’s arm, Clara was determined to spend time in her garden.

She looked outside pointedly, and said, “What do you think?”

“I think you would much rather be outside in your garden than cooped up in a room with four gossipy women. You are such a strange bird, Clara.”

Clara grinned, liking that description of her. She plopped on her gardening hat, pushing it down for good measure. “I adore being strange.”

“I’m off then,” Harriet said with a laugh.

Clara sighed after Harriet had disappeared, and wondered what her sister would think if she knew Clara had been kissing their gardener. No doubt, she would be horrified and concerned. Likely just as horrified and concerned as Clara was. While she refused to call the kiss a mistake, it certainly was something she had no intention of repeating. Her curiosity had been assuaged. No more kissing their gardener. No more flirting. No more staring at him like some spoony girl who’d never had a beau.

And then, all those thoughts flew from her mind the moment she stepped outside and saw him and her heart picked up and her insides gave an odd clench. She smiled and swallowed and allowed her eyes to dip to his mouth, upturned in a smile, which hardened into a straight line as she watched.

“Good morning, Miss Anderson,” he said gruffly.

“Good morning, Mr. Emory.”

They stared at one another for a moment too long, breathing in unison, bodies taut. Clara was about to turn and run back into the house, afraid of the feelings that swept through her, her inability to calm her heart and tame her desire, when he said, “I’ll be right back. I need something in my room.”

He dropped his hoe and spun about before heading directly to the shed, leaving Clara standing there uncertain about what had just happened. Before he disappeared into the darkness of the shed, he stopped, just for a moment, then continued on and closed the door behind him.

“Oh,” she whispered, and pressed her fists against her stomach. She didn’t think, didn’t dare allow herself to, before walking toward the shed, hands clenched tightly in her skirts, heart beating madly in her chest.

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