“Of course I have,” she said.
“Let me see, then.” He caught her by the arm, stopping her progress, and turned her to face him. “Let me see you smile.”
“Oh,” she said, “one cannot smile for no reason at all.”
“I can,” he said, suiting action to words. “Let me see yours. Come on, Annabelle. There is only me to see.”
“Please let go of my arm,” she said, her eyes on his hand.
He sighed and let her go. “You are by far the prettiest of my cousins, you know,” he said, “or second cousins, to be quite accurate. I have a feeling you could be a staggering beauty if you smiled.
“How absurd!” she said. “I do smile.”
“When?” he asked. “When you see something pretty? There are some primroses, look. Justin said there were some. Rosamund and I were too busy racing each other up to notice. Shall I pick you some? Will you smile at me if I do?”
“Don’t be silly, Joshua,” she said. “I am not a child to be coaxed.”
“When someone tells a joke?” he asked. “I have a storehouse of them. If I dredge up one suitable for a lady’s ears, will you smile?”
“Are we going to stand here?” she asked. “I thought we were going to the top.”
“When you are tickled?” he said. “Do you smile then?” He reached out for her.
But she jumped back and held out her hands in front of her. “Don’t touch me!” she said.
He set his head to one side and regarded her closely.
“What is it, Annabelie?” he asked her quietly, serious for once. “Are you unhappy about something?”
“No,” she said.
“Don’t you like this marriage that has been arranged for you?” he asked. “You have had forever to get used to the idea, haven’t you? How old were you when your grandmother matched you with Justin?”
“Nine years old,” she said. “And of course I do not dislike the idea.”
“Look,” he said. “There are some snowdrops. Sit down for a minute and I’ll pick you some.”
She sat.
“I’m surprised she hasn’t had her eye on me before now,” he said. “Me being her husband’s heir and all that. I have been in fear and dread for the last few years that she is going to notice that Christobel is growing up and in need of a husband.”
“Don’t you like Christobel?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I used to think it unfair that she was not the one to be matched with Justin,” he said. “I wouldn’t have minded you, Annabelle. However, as it has turned out your grandmother has not yet come to realize how splendid it would be to marry me off to one of her granddaughters. Perhaps her matchmaking urge came to an end with you.”
Annabelle looked down at the fragile white flowers he had picked for her. “Yes,” she said.
“Count your blessings,” he said, sitting beside her and reclining on one elbow. “If it had not been Justin, Annabelle, you might have been landed with me. Then you would have had something to mope about. I teased you to death all through your childhood and girlhood, didn’t I? You never could stand me.”
She touched the petals of one of the flowers with one light fingertip. “I was so much younger than you,” she said. “Does your leg still hurt?”
He laughed. “A diplomatic change of subject,” he said. “Sometimes. In cold or damp weather. When I abuse it.”
“Like today?” she asked.
“I will probably have to return to my room when we get back to the house to bite on a bullet,” he said, grinning at her. He watched her touching the flowers for a few silent moments. “Why did you ask?”
She shrugged. “We were here at Grandpapa’s when word came that you had been wounded,” she said. “More than a month passed before there was further word.”
