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“I’m sure you are mistaken.” Romy’s heart thudded at Haven’s words. “His Grace and I do not get on.”
“No, not in the least, from what I’ve observed,” he said solemnly.
There had been just a touch of mockery in his reply, which Romy chose to ignore. “I do apologize about the destruction of your coat when we first arrived.”
Theo, who was just ahead, giggled madly at something Blythe said while she hugged his arm.
Haven’s gaze fell on her sister. “It’s clear she needs spectacles.” His voice had a raspy quality. Very unlike the deep rumble of Granby.
“She has spectacles. But vanity has kept her from wearing them.”
“Foolish.” Haven’s gaze remained on Theo.
“Because she cannot see?” Romy said. “I too grow weary of watching her stub a toe or wave to one of Granby’s guests only to realize, upon coming closer, she is greeting a statue.”
“No.” The rasp deepened as the muscles beneath her arm grew taut. “Because she is beautiful either way.”
Romy gave Haven a sideways glance. “I would have to agree.”
He led her to the blanket where Lucy and Mildred had already settled, nodding politely to both women as he deposited Romy in their company and headed straight toward the food-laden tables. She’d never seen a gentleman in her life eat so much, not even Granby. It was a wonder Haven wasn’t round or portly with his appetite.
Haven was still watching Theo as his plate was loaded down by an agreeable servant.
“Mr. Estwood seems to be very informed about the area,” Lucy said. Her friend’s lisp was barely noticeable now that her father and his constant judgement remained at The Barrow.
“I find his intellect to be stimulating.” Mildred tilted her parasol slightly to avoid the sun hitting her face.
“I’m sure he’d be delighted to escort both of you about the stones after lunch and discuss the things that have been found here. I fear his knowledge is wasted on me.” Romy leaned in. “I’ve little interest in such things.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask,” Lucy demurred, looking back at Estwood.
Estwood and Haven’s heads were together, Estwood speaking while Haven tore into a chicken leg.
“Then I most certainly will,” Mildred stated firmly. “Gentleman or not, I like Mr. Estwood very much. He is wealthy and well-connected.” She stood and strode over toward Estwood and Haven, uncaring at her boldness.
“You should speak to Estwood,” Romy said to Lucy.
Lucy only nodded, plucking at her skirt.
A servant appeared at Romy’s elbow, asking if she and Lucy would like lemonade or perhaps some cheese or a roll.
“Yes to everything,” she replied. “I’m quite starving.” Maybe she shouldn’t be so quick to judge Haven’s appetite when her own was stronger than most young ladies she knew. Once the servant returned with their plates, Romy dove in with gusto.
Beatrice wandered over and settled herself on the blanket next to Lucy, without asking if she could join them. Placing a pillow at her back, she smoothed out her skirts. Beatrice was overdressed for a picnic. The pale green frock was more appropriate for paying calls rather than sitting in the grass.
Her eyes took on a calculated gleam as she looked at Romy.
Romy took a bite of her chicken and glared right back. Obviously, Lady Carstairs, true to form, had gossiped to someone about seeing Romy and Granby in the woods.
“Are you enjoying the house party, Lady Andromeda?”
Romy munched as loudly as possible on her chicken, hoping to drive her away. “Very much, Lady Beatrice.”
“I confess, I was surprised to see you joining us today. Picnics don’t seem to be your style. You much prefer wandering about with your portfolio, sketching away. I dowonderwhat interests you so that you feel compelled to put the image to paper.”
Romy’s chewing slowed, considering Beatrice’s words. Surely the other girl was only being snide. Beatrice couldn’t possibly know about Madame Dupree.
“Do you wander with a purpose? Hoping to become lost, perhaps?” She shook her head. “And require rescue?”
