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And arrogant. Rude. Snobbish.It was one of the few times Romy didn’t voice her opinion. But she was surprised that the gardens were the purview of Granby and not his aunt.
“Many of the plants are not native to England but have been coaxed to grow here all the same. The roses at the far corner”—Lady Molsin pointed to a spot hidden from the terrace—“are in bloom.”
“Oh, there she is.” Cousin Winnie waved.
Theo had reappeared on the opposite side of the terrace. She was leaning over, peering in Cousin Winnie’s direction, one hand shading her eyes from the sun.
“Perhaps Lady Theodosia can’t see us?” Lady Molsin offered gently.
A puzzled look appeared on Cousin Winnie’s face. “She usually wears spectacles.”
Before her cousin could question her as to Theo’s eyesight, Romy took a step in the direction of the stairs leading down into the gardens. She had no desire to run into Granby, at least at present, and especially not after being subjected to Beatrice.
“I think I’ll take your suggestion, Lady Molsin.” Bobbing politely, Romy hurried across the terrace and down the broad stone steps leading into the gardens. She took a deep lungful of fresh air. Trees. Flowers. The chirping of birds. All of it was so much better than being subjected to the conversation filling the terrace behind her.
As her feet touched the gravel of the path, she heard Lady Molsin say, “Ah, there’s Granby now.”
