Millicent was appalled. Who was this strange man? What had Sophia been thinking not to report this intrusion to her sooner? “Yes, we share a mutual love of gardening.” Sophia smiled and sighed. “You wouldn’t know a flower bed from a paddy field,” Millicent snapped. “You are too cruel,” Sophia objected. “I may well know the difference—if I were to see them side by side. Besides, I have taught him English, after a fashion. The study of linguistics also binds us.” “It is not English; it is some horticultural gobbledygook that may well have you both arrested if you step foot outside of this house,” Millicent said, and added as an afterthought, “or into any convenient florist. Where is he now? Please don’t tell me he is still in the cellar.” “No, he is not.” Sophia sniffed haughtily. “He is in the kitchen with Cook. She says he has cleaned up well, is industrious, and would make an excellent replacement footman.”
