Distantly, the dressing gong rang in the house, a sign that it was time for the guests to prepare for dinner. Sighing, she turned as if to leave, but paused, glancing back.
“What is his name?”
“Hm?”
“The horse,” she nodded at the creature still galloping around the field. “What is his name?”
“Oh. Do you know, I cannot remember? He must have had one, but I can’t recall it. Perhaps you could name him.”
He wasn’t sure what made him add the last part, but it was worth it. Miss Brookford’s face lit up.
“Can I?”
He nodded, smiling. “Take your time and choose a good one. Let me know what you have decided.”
Still beaming, she turned and began to hurry across towards the house. William watched her go, his heart hammering against the inside of his ribcage.
A movement at one of the windows caught his eye, and he glanced up in time to see a figure shift out of view. A female figure, and he could guess who it was. A cold chill ran down his spine.
In all the excitement, he’d almost forgotten about his betrothal.
Don’t be a fool, William. Don’t. Miss Brookford is not for you.
He glanced over at the field and found that the horse had stopped dead in the middle of the paddock, and was staring at him. Reddening, William turned on his heel and hurried back towards the house.
Chapter Sixteen
Lavinia inspected her reflection, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
Well, I never thought I’d start worrying over my clothes because of aman,she thought wryly.
She’d chosen a checked green muslin, notentirelysuitable for a house party but quite good enough for a picnic. The day was fine, if a little overcast, and the promised rain had not arrived.
Spirits were high. People were looking forward to the picnic, Gillian most of all. Apparently, Lord Langley – who had been sitting next to her at supper the previous night, while Lavinia found herself sandwiched between a prim and disapproving widow and a middle-aged gentleman who mostly ignored her and slurped his soup – had asked Gillian to show him how to make daisy-chains. This had come on the heels of Gillian confessing herself an avid gardener. Personally, Lavinia was sure the man could have come up with something better than makingdaisy chains, but Gillian was charmed and excited, so that was that.
It was pleasant to see her sister enjoying herself so much. Lord Langley’s attentions at supper had been marked, his disappointment at not seeing her at the Park most intense.
And once Gillian is gone,Lavinia thought, not for the first time,It will be just Mama, Papa and me.
That wasn’t a particularly pleasant thought.
She tweaked anxiously at a curl, turning her figure this way and that, to make sure the gown still looked suitable. It was last year’s gown – no, the year before – and the guests here were a remarkably fashionable crowd. Miss Bainbridge, for example, had not worn anything at all from last year’s Season, if gossip was to be believed. Not even a pair of gloves or a bonnet. Her entire wardrobe was new.
And here we can barely afford rent on our London house,Lavinia thought grimly.
Lady Brennon came bustling in, resplendent in a white lawn dress, covered in embroidered flowers, and an old-fashioned straw bonnet.
“Well, well, Lavinia, not ready yet? Gillian has been ready for quite some time! They are all getting ready to leave. Shall we go?”
Lavinia took one last look at herself in the glass.
This is as good as it is going to get.
“Yes,” she said mildly. “I’m ready.”
***
The picnic was to be held on a hill behind the house, with beautiful views overlooking a valley, a large pond spread out below. Despite the heavy clouds overhead, it was fairly warm, and there was no danger of rain.
