Miles gently inclined his head. “That’s a fair point.”

I sniffed, folding my arms across my chest.

“There’s no use in you paying for a taxi when I’m here. I don’t mind. It would be helpful to check on the greenhouses and make sure there’s no damage before I come tomorrow anyway.”

“What if there is?”

“Is there? Is my greenhouse hurt?”

God, him and his bloody greenhouse. “I haven’t a clue,” I said honestly. “I haven’t been out there.”

“Oh.” He exhaled and his shoulders sagged. “You worried me, there.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I suppose I would appreciate a lift home. It’s quite a walk from here.”

“Come on.” Miles nodded his head in the direction of his car and unlocked it using the key fob. The lights flashed bright orange, illuminating the other cars, and I followed him over and opened the passenger side door.

I looked the inside over, peering under my seat, over into the back of the Land Rover, and even going so far as to look in the glove box.

“What are you doing?” Miles asked, staring down at me from the driver’s seat. “I promise I have no murder weapons in here.”

“There are cable ties in your glove box.”

“They’re handy to have around. Never know when you’ll need one.”

“And there’s a shovel on the backseat.”

“I’m a gardener. Kind of important for me to have a spade.”

“If there’s rope in the boot, I’m out of here.”

“There’s garden twine.” He shrugged. “Again, kind of important.”

“Hmph.” I looked around. “I was actually looking to see if there are any fish or frogs in here.”

The overhead light flicked on right as he blinked at me, and the dim light made his eyes shine. “Why would I have fish or frogs in my car?”

“You took it for a swim yesterday.”

“I was six inches into a puddle, Gabriella. Not floating down the River Severn.” His lips twitched, but he got them under control.

Alas, still no smile.

What did a girl have to do to make him crack a smile?

Miserable sod.

“You would have been if you hadn’t called me.” I got into the Land Rover and closed the door behind me. “I don’t like frogs. Or toads. They creep me the hell out.”

“You’re scared of frogs? Don’t you have a ton of ponds and lakes on your property?” He started the engine and backed up, starting our journey.

I looked out of the window. “Yes, and when have you ever seen me anywhere near them?”

“Good point.”

I desperately wanted to ask him why he’d wanted to talk to me, but I couldn’t get the words out. Despite the fact we’d been talking all evening while serving the soup to displaced villagers, we hadn’t addressed our previous conversation about classism.

And we hadn’t exactly left it on good terms.

They weren’t particularly bad terms, but they weren’t horribly good ones, either.

So I broached a much, much safer topic.