Nothing to Commend Her by Jo Barrett

wouldn't?
    "Have you informed Lady Leighton?” he asked Barstoke.
    "Yes, my lord. She was—involved, but said she would be along shortly."
    "That sounds ominous,” Crittenden said with a chuckle as they took their seats.
    "She has unusual interests that keep her occupied."
    "Really? What sort of interests?"
    "I am so sorry to be late,” Agatha said, bustling into the dining room.
    Both men stood, but Magnus couldn't quite meet her gaze, fearful of what he might see there.
    "Not at all, my lady,” Crittenden said, and took it upon himself to escort her to her chair. “Lord Leighton was just about to tell me of your unusual occupations."
    "My—” Her gaze shot to Magnus and he glanced elsewhere.
    "Riding without a saddle, for one,” he muttered, peering at her from the corner of his eye.
    "That is unusual,” Crittenden said, taking his seat. “Do you enjoy riding, Lady Leighton, sans saddle?"
    "Um, not normally, no,” she said, her face flushing furiously, bringing a grin to Magnus lips.
    "I sense a tale there,” his friend said with a chortle. “But I shall be a gentleman and not press you for it."
    "Thank you, my lord,” she said with a nod.
    They chatted amicably, Crittenden doing most of the talking. Magnus had no doubt he sensed the hovering tension in the room, but it could not be helped. He wanted his wife, craved her, and would forever curse his soul for the bland future he'd forced upon her.
    "I would like to hear what other pursuits you engage yourself in,” Crittenden said, a distinct twinkle in his eye. “I sense you are not the type to sit about doing stitchery and such."
    She laughed softly. “Hardly. I rather prefer my work."
    "Work?"
    "Oh, well, I enjoy gardening—of a sort."
    "Of a sort?” Crittenden chuckled. “What sort do you find enjoyable?"
    Magnus covered a smile with his napkin at Agatha's blind gaze. Crittenden's easy banter had caught her unaware, and she didn't know how to get herself out of it. Then he realized, for the first time in a very long while, he'd actually allowed the smile, several in fact, and all because of her and his friend. In what other ways was his life going to change?
    "I-I enjoy roses quite a bit,” she sputtered.
    "As most ladies do,” Crittenden said. “But I detect a difference in the hobby where you are concerned, Lady Leighton."
    "I suppose I am rather particular about how I like to grow things.” She flushed beautifully.
    "About your gardening ,” Magnus said, deciding to help her in this odd discussion. “You're not to use the potting shed any longer.” He cleared his throat and concentrated on his food. “It will be too cold come winter. So I've instructed Roberts to have all of your things moved to the orangery."
    He spared her a glance and found her mouth agape, while Crittenden looked between them with curious humor in his eyes.
    "With your direction of course,” Magnus added. “I wouldn't wish for any of your experiments to be damaged in the move."
    Her spoon clattered against her dish. “You know?"
    "Of course,” he said with a shrug.
    She shook her head, her eyes wide. “And you don't mind that I experiment with—” she cast a glance at Crittenden then looked back to him.
    "I don't mind.” He looked to Crittenden, still unable to keep his attention on her, a greater coward he'd never known. “Agatha is attempting to create a fertilizer that will increase crop production."
    Crittenden chuckled with a shake of his head. “Ah, the unusual occupation.” He looked to Agatha. “You'll have to share your secrets, my lady. I can't have Magnus out do my estate."
    She leapt from her chair and rushed to Magnus’ side and took his face in her hands. Her eyes overly bright, she pecked a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Magnus. Thank you."
    She hurried to the door and came to a jerky stop. “Oh!” She spun around, her face a flame of color. “If you'll pardon me, Lord Crittenden, I'm sure you'd much rather spend your time with my