“Well,” she said, after they had worked their way through everything, “I think we must begin judging. I think the apple pie is the winner.”
“Do you?” he said. “I disagree. The rhubarb. There is a depth to it that the others cannot match.”
“Rhubarb,” she said, and pulled a face. “I was going to rank it last.”
He looked at the assembled crowd, who were following every word with great interest, and drew her a few steps aside toward a barrel that provided a little distance between them and their audience.
“We ought to agree on one,” he said, “so that Mrs. Baker can make her sign.”
“Then it must be the apple,” she said firmly. “Nobody in their right mind will prefer a rhubarb pie to an apple or even a mixed berry.”
He adopted his most serious expression. “We are at an impasse, then. Because I will not give the apple highest marks when I think it is only the third best on offer.”
She crossed her arms. “What is needed is a compromise.” She turned back to Mrs. Baker. “Mrs. Baker would you be willing to advertise two choices? One as the Duchess’s and one as the Duke’s? We cannot come to an agreement.”
Mrs. Baker clapped again. “Even better! I shall have people try both and cast their votes. The Duke against the Duchess the whole village will be talking of nothing else.”
“It sounds like folly,” said a man from the back, Mrs. Baker’s husband, who had been sitting quietly in the shadows until now.
“On the contrary,” Helena said, “I think it is a wonderful idea. People will take a side, and either back my husband or myself. It will be most interesting to see which of our tastes prevails — though I think I already know.”
“The rhubarb will win,” Mrs. Baker’s husband said, and Gideon pointed at him with satisfaction. “Good man. You are quite right.”
“The apple, clearly, is the superior pie,” Mrs. Baker said. “That has always been my view.”
“And mine,” Helena said.
The debate continued in that cheerful vein for several more minutes before Mrs. Baker disappeared to make her signs, promising to send word to the estate by end of day with the results.
CHAPTER 28
GIDEON
After a little while they retrieved Ruby from the farmer and made their way back to the carriage. Gideon watched Helena as she cradled the small pig, not appearing to mind in the slightest that her gown was being thoroughly ruined.
“Lavinia will love her,” he said.
“She will,” Helena agreed.
He looked at her. “Helena. I know that we have an arrangement. But I want you to know — this is exactly what I had imagined our marriage might be. If there could not be love or romance, then this is what I wanted. The two of us going on adventures together. Enjoying one another’s company as we did in London. I will do my very best to be a good husband to you.”
“And I will be a good wife,” she said.
“I will not,” he added, “be finding myself a carte blanche. I have no interest in it — whatever you may say on the matter.”
“Good,” she said. And that, too, was a change. She had always been the one to raise the subject, always pushing him toward it as though reminding him of an escape route. Not today.
“I would still like to know what truly happened to make you so uneasy at times,” he said. “But in your own time. When you are ready.”
“I appreciate that,” she said.
And then, to his utter surprise, she reached out and placed her hand on top of his. He curled his fingers around it and they sat together in that way — her right arm cradling Ruby, her left hand in his right — all the way back to the estate.
He did not dare remark upon it. He did not wish to make her feel self-conscious, not when she was finally opening up to him.
He helped her down from the carriage, and they went to the stable to hand Ruby off to the stable master, who received this news with the expression that made it clear he was utterly shocked but did not wish to show it.
“She will also be in the house,” Helena said. “Sometimes. When she is very young she will need comfort.”
