He stepped through the rubble of what had been a doorway onto the grass beyond and peered into the trees. There was neither sight nor sound of them. He strolled a little way into the trees.
“Josh,” Rosamund had said, laughing. “You cannot climb up there. You are a grown man now.”
“What you really mean,” he said, grinning at her, “is that I am a man with a limp now and will fall off.”
“And so you will too,” she said, “and I will laugh at you.”
“No, you won’t,” he said. “You will shriek and rush to tend my broken head.”
And of course he had climbed up onto the wall that they and Valerie had climbed on as youngsters, and he had taunted her until she had climbed up there with him. And of course he had fallen off and she had grinned down at him and walked the whole length of the wall herself before jumping down.
They were just like a couple of children and should be ashamed of themselves, she told him. Heavens, she was a respectable widow of six-and-twenty.
“Oh, not quite like children, Rosamund,” he said, taking her by the hand and stepping over a pile of rubble where the wall had completely crumbled away to stroll with her along the outer side of the wall, where they were suddenly sheltered from both the wind and the sunlight by the trees.
“I know,” she said, trying to withdraw her hand from his and failing. “This is where you start flirting with me, isn’t it, Josh, and trying to steal a kiss?”
“It would not be theft if you gave it willingly,” he said.
“I won’t.”
He turned toward her and let go of her hand. He set his own against the wall over her shoulder. “Won’t you?” he said. ‘Why not?”
“Because we are a couple of children when we are together, you and I,” she said. “I would be mortally embarrassed if you kissed me. I would not know where to look.”
“You are supposed to close your eyes,” he said.
“No, Josh,” she said. “I mean it.”
He smiled at her. “Damn,” he said. “Who else is there here to flirt with if not with you, Rosamund?”
“Try not flirting with anyone for two weeks,” she said. “It will doubtless be good for your soul, Josh.”
“You aren’t sighing with love over Toby by any chance, are you?” he said. “He’ll probably deliver a sermon every night before jumping into bed with you. And imagine all the little Tobys learning their lessons at his knee in years to come.”
She laughed. “Don’t,” she said. “He is not a figure of fun, Josh. He is a very respectable citizen.”
“Picture yourself in a front pew knowing that you have to remain awake and look interested through his Sunday sermons,” he said. “Picture yourself having to keep all the little Tobys and their sisters from fidgeting.”
“You are quite horrid and heartless,” she said. “I am sorry to destroy your mental image, Josh, but I have no intention of marrying him, you know.”
“Good,” he said. “Let me kiss you, then. You may be surprised at how good I am at it.”
“I don’t doubt that you are an authority on the subject,” she said. “Here comes Annabelle.”
She was greatly relieved as he removed his hand and turned to smile at Annabelle. She liked him far too well to become involved in a real flirtation with him. She knew she could never have serious feelings for him, and she very much doubted that he could have any for her. There was not that spark that there was with . . .
It did not matter.
“All your aunt can do when I try to describe the bliss of her future life with Toby and all their offspring is laugh with a dreadful tone of levity,” he said to the girl. “Perhaps you can talk some sense into her, Annabelle.”
“Oh, Aunt Rosa,” Annabelle said, looking at her in dismay, “you are not going to marry Tobias, are you?”
Lord Beresford chuckled. “Let’s go and have a look at the hermit’s cave down by the river,” he said. “I haven’t seen it for years.” He extended an arm to each of them. Annabelle took one of his arms.
“I am going to walk among the trees for a few minutes,” Rosamund said. “You two go along.”
“She is afraid I will pitch her into the river,” he said to Annabelle.
