‘Miss Fripp, I was hoping I might find you here.’
The pencil fell to Mary’s lap, and she lifted her gaze to the silhouette, blocking the sun. Miss Fripp? Her husband, James, was her senior by more years than she cared to count. She didn’t correct the gentleman standing before her in the garden—many had made the mistake of believing her to be James’s daughter, not his wife.
Shading her eyes with the flat of her hand, she admired the man’s neatly fitted moss-coloured velvet tailcoat, his brilliant white cravat and, in the sudden change from shadow to light, the planes of his face came into focus—high cheekbones, a long, somewhat sharp nose and startling hazel-green eyes that glinted in the sunlight. His skin wore a healthy glow yet there was a weathered look about him of a man who spent a lot of time out of doors. She detected a musky, very masculine scent.
‘Francis Howard Greenway.’ For some unknown reason he emphasised the name Howard before making a sweeping bow, a heavy lock of his reddish hair falling over his high forehead.
‘At your service, Miss. I’ve been requested by Captain Fripp to quote on repairs and renovations to the house and stables.’
She leapt to her feet. He had? She’d rather hoped James would discuss the proposal with her before he made a move. He was aware of her interest in architecture and her feelings for her home, the house Papa had built. In a surprising mood of bonhomie, spurred no doubt by the quantity of brandy he had consumed, James had told her of his intention to have the house and stables ‘brought up to scratch’.
He’d discovered a local architect who had studied under the famous architect John Nash in London and believed he could negotiate a reduced price. He’d failed to mention he’d already made a start. ‘You’ve spoken with my husband?’
A hint of colour stole across Mr Greenway’s cheeks. ‘I beg your pardon, Mrs Fripp. Unfortunately, Captain Fripp appears to have forgotten our appointment and I took it upon myself to appraise the house and its surrounds.’
How unusual. Mudd, stable master and general factotum, rarely approved any unescorted visitor, and since Papa’s death he’d extended his role as groom to that of guardian. He must have taken James into town because Mudd wouldn’t allow anyone to roam the grounds alone…
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