Page 83 of A Duchess for his Family

“I make no promise to approve of everything.”

“I should be alarmed if you did.”

“And I reserve the right to forbid anything genuinely hazardous.”

“Provided you do not define happiness as hazardous.”

Benedict held her gaze. “That remains to be determined.”

This time, she smiled. It was small and uncertain, but it reached him all the same.

Benedict stepped nearer and offered his hand. Sophia looked at it for a moment before placing hers within it. Her fingers were warm. He closed his hand carefully around them, aware that forgiveness, like trust, was not something a man received once and possessed forever. It had to be earned.

Perhaps, he thought, it was the same with courage.

“He agreed?” Marjorie regarded Sophia with the suspicion ordinarily reserved for false witnesses and badly concealed vegetables.

“He did,” Sophia replied.

“To come with us?” Marjorie had to clarify.

“Yes.”

“This afternoon?”

“Yes, Marjorie.”

Amelia looked up from the ribbon she was tying around her bonnet. “Did Uncle Benedict understand that it was an outing?”

Sophia nodded. “I explained it quite clearly.”

“Did you use the word outing?” Marjorie asked.

“I did.”

“And he still agreed?”

Sophia attempted not to smile. “He did.”

Marjorie folded her arms with a pout. “He will change his mind.”

“He gave me his word.”

“That only means he will change his mind very formally.”

By three o’clock, Sophia had begun to fear Marjorie might be correct.

The twins waited with the picnic basket upon the south terrace. Amelia sat upon the stone balustrade, pretending to examine the garden while glancing repeatedly toward the house. Marjorie paced before the steps, kicking at loose gravel with increasing indignation.

Then the terrace doors opened, and Benedict appeared precisely at the appointed hour. He wore no coat, though his dark waistcoat and severe expression suggested he had dressed for a meeting of Parliament rather than an afternoon upon the lawn.

Marjorie stopped pacing. “You came.”

Benedict lifted one brow. “Was that in doubt?”

“Yes.”

“Marjorie,” Amelia whispered.