He replaced his hat. “Secrets. A reminder that all families have secrets.”
With a wry smile, Lady Mary nodded and resumed walking. “Rather brave of you.”
He shook his head. “Not really. I am a reprobate at six and twenty, a man whose family gives him little support, and who retains a modest title solely because of my blood. I have little to lose and even less patience for the cruelty of some members of the elite.”
They walked in silence a few moments before she spoke. “I have to admit that the allure of London and the glitter of thetonhas begun to wear thin. I so much wanted to debut, to attend the grand balls with the shining Beau Monde and attend the soirees with the finest minds. To buy scores of books and have gowns made beyond those of my dressmaker at home. She is quite talented, but I always believed that the modistes of London held skills she did not. I would not have thought I would long for the isolation and solitude of home.”
“Where is home?”
“Kirkstone Abbey is nestled in the fells north of Kirkstone Pass. The Lake District.”
Thad grinned, a memory sparking in his head. “The Lake District?”
She nodded.
Thad paused, looking around. Spring flowers lined the path—daffodils, tulips, narcissi—and a sweet fragrance hovered in the air. He peered behind them, but Lady Elspeth and her friend had passed out of sight, with only Raleigh continuing to scowl in his direction. The other direction remained equally clear.
“What are you looking for?”
“Spies,” he whispered. Then he bent and plucked a daffodil from a cluster near the path.
“Lord Thaddeus! You should not—”
He presented it to her. “For the lady who is as lovely as a spring flower.” He then lowered his voice again and recited.
“I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees—
Lady Mary interrupted him, a smile spreading across her face.
“Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
and twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance.”
Thad thought his heart would burst, grinning as he picked up the lines, and they recited the rest of the poem together.
“The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
