“
It was there! Gentle, gradual, but it was all there. The bosky earth, the pale moist scents of the sun-warmed air. The sweet tang of nearby cattle. The hundred green aromas this countryside had always brought her: ancient, dark green, leaf of oak and ash, sharp pine. The fresh and ever-present back-note of grass, herbal, mellowed by the residue of that morning's dew. And the hops, funky with spice, with the new wood and bright fruit of the vine.
They plunged into the kitchen garden, assailed the
...more
”
― Feast
― Feast
“
What's your enterprise of choice?"
Vane grinned. "Hops."
Patience blinked. "Hops?"
"A vital ingredient used to flavor and clarify beers. I own Pembury Manor, an estate near Tunbridge in Kent."
"And you grow hops?"
Vane's smile teased. "As well as apples, pears, cherries, and cob nuts."
Drawing back in her saddle, Patience stared at him. "You're a farmer!"
One brown brow rose. "Among other things."
Recognizing the glint in his eyes, she swallowed a humph.
...more
”
― A Rake's Vow
― A Rake's Vow