“I say, Ravenscroft,” James said, “perhaps you ought to let her continue.”

“They were getting too much sun,” Caroline explained. “The buds were burning off before they had a chance to bloom.”

James turned to Blake and said, “It does sound as if she knows what she's doing.”

“I don't care if she's earned a bloody doctorate in horticulture. She had no right to tear apart my garden.”

Caroline planted her free hand on her hip. She was starting to get more than a little irritated with his attitude. “It's not as if you gave a care to the garden before I started my work here.”

“And why would you think that?”

“Anyone with an ounce of gardening sense would have been appalled by the state of your rosebushes,” she scoffed, “and the hedges are in dire need of trimming.”

“You're not to touch my hedges,” he warned.

“I wasn't planning on it. They've grown so high I couldn't possibly reach the top, anyway. I was going to ask you to do it.”

Blake turned to James “Did I really agree to let her stay?”

James nodded.

“Damn.”

“I was merely trying to be of help,” she said, bristling at his insults.

He gaped at her, then gaped at the holes. “Help?”

“I thought it only polite to earn my keep.”

“Earn your keep? It'd take you ten years to earn your keep after this damage!”

Caroline had been trying to keep her temper in check. In fact, she'd been mentally congratulating herself for remaining so level-headed and cheerful in the face of his anger.

No longer.

“You sir,” she exploded, barely resisting the urge to swing the shovel at him, “are the rudest, most ill-mannered man in all creation!”

He raised a brow. “Surely you can do better than that.”

“I can,” she growled, “but I'm in polite company.”

“You don't mean Riverdale?” Blake said with a laugh as he flicked his head toward his grinning friend. “He's about the least polite company I know.”

“However,” the marquis cut in, “I would have to agree with the lady on her assessment of your character, Ravenscroft.” He turned to Caroline. “He's a brute.”

“God save me from the two of you,” Blake muttered.

“The least you could do,” Caroline said with a little sniff, “is thank me.”

“Thank you!?”

“You're welcome,” she said quickly. “Now then, would you like to assist me in moving these plants to their new locations?”

“No.”

James stepped forward. “I would be delighted.”

“You're too kind, my lord,” she said with a sunny smile.

Blake scowled at his friend. “We've work to do, Riverdale.”

“We do?”

“Important work,” Blake practically roared.

“What could be more important than assisting a lady while she's working in the hot sun?”

Caroline turned to Blake with a questioning smile and mischievous eyes. “Yes, Mr. Ravenscroft, what could possibly be more important?”

Blake stared at her in utter disbelief. She was a guest in his home—a guest!—and not only had she dug up his garden, she was also scolding him like some recalcitrant schoolboy. And Riverdale, who was supposed to be his best friend, was standing by her side, grinning like an idiot.