The Gardener Read Online Free PDF

you’ve seen my riding crop have you? I have searched every blasted room in the house except this one!!”
    Tom guiltily snapped shut the book. Jonathan Marlowe strode in and leaned against the lintel, crossing his gleaming boots and casually taking a pinch of powder from a bejeweled snuffbox.
    Quickly, Tom shoved the volume back into the bookcase. “N-no, sir.”
    An expression of mild curiosity crossed Sir Jonathan's features. “I say, were you actually reading that thing? Damme if you aren’t the first person to pull a book off those shelves since they were constructed!”
    “Begging your pardon, sir. I was just …. No, sir.”
    Sir Jonathan tucked the snuffbox into his breast pocket, regarding Tom curiously. The latter quickly pulled himself into the posture Campbell had taught him: chin up, shoulders back, eyes straight ahead.
    The black eyes brightened. “I declare, it is you again! The gardener! I hardly recognized you under that wig. Things have worked out well for you, have they? I dare say you have me to thank. It was I who mentioned you to my father.”
    “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Tom wished Sir Jonathan would leave, so he could make his escape.
    Instead, Jonathan strolled to the bookcase and casually pulled out the volume which Tom had been holding. His black brows glided upward as he took in the title. “Interesting choice,” he commented.
    “I beg your pardon, sir?”
    Jonathan read the title aloud: A Practical Treatise on Husbandry; Wherein are Contained Many Useful and Valuable Experiments and Observations in the New Husbandry . You’ve managed to select what is undoubtedly the dullest book in a very dull collection. I have no idea why we own it, considering we no longer raise crops on our lands. Pity, that the book should be wasted here, where it will never be read.” He began to toss the book aside, then paused. “I say, I do not suppose you’d care to have it?”
    Tom could not believe his ears. His heart leaped, but the words that came out of his mouth were, “Thank you, sir, but I cannot read.”
    Jonathan laughed. “Why, I can barely read myself, although my tutor switched me often enough in their efforts to teach me. I take in a page in the Gazette, on race days, which is the only time I have found that blasted tutoring useful.” Without warning, Jonathan tossed the heavy book in his direction, and Tom caught it automatically. “Here. Take the cursed thing! You might find the pictures entertaining, although damme if I can think why you bothered cracking it open. I’d wager ten pounds you’re the first who’s done so." He added, chuckling, “And no doubt will be the last.”
    “Sir, I cannot accept—“
    “Balderdash.” Jonathan headed toward the door. “If this library burned down tomorrow, none of us Marlowes would notice. I only came in here to find my riding crop, not that it is bloody likely to—ho, there it is! Fancy that! Perhaps the brownies brought it here, eh?” Still chuckling, he sauntered out, switching the crop against his leg.
    As Tom's muscles relaxed, he let out a long breath. Thank heaven Blodgett had not witnessed the exchange, he thought, beginning to put the volume away, for he had not taken Sir Jonathan’s comments seriously. What use had he for a book, anyway?
    Then something stopped him, and he looked at the cover again. A Practical Treatise on Husbandry , Sir Jonathan had called it. Husbandry. Another word for farming. Growing things.
    He frowned. Why shouldn't he keep the book? Sir Jonathan had given it to him. It was sure to be full of useful information, and even if Tom did not use it himself, maybe the contents would do Lemley some good, or the other gardeners. Besides, Tom was curious. He had always prided himself on his skill as a gardener, and it would be interesting to learn the mysteries contained in the book.
    But neither of those reasons were why, when Tom left the room, he took the book with him.
    He had figured out the means to win