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She quickened her step so that she was walking by George and pointed out a butterfly to him. “Shall we draw that one first?”
“Yes!” He jumped up and down in excitement, causing the butterfly to flit away.
“Oh…it’s gone.” She made a sad face at him. “The next one we see, we must be very quiet and still.”
He nodded vigorously in agreement before turning around to look for his father. “Papa!” he called in a loud whisper. “We must be very quiet and still.”
Letty saw his lip twitch, as though he might burst out laughing at any second but he bit his bottom lip and nodded solemnly instead. “All right, George. You’re in charge.”
All four of them kneeled down in the grass next to a bunch of likely flowering bushes and watched to see if any butterflies would appear. While they waited, Mrs. Haversham told George a few things about butterflies including the fact that they came from a pupa, were stored in a chrysalis, before emerging full grown.
“Can we find one that hasn’t come out?” George’s eyes were wide with fascination.
“I suppose we could look,” the Duke replied and smiled at his son. “Perhaps we could watch as it changes.”
George jumped up and down with excitement. “Yes!”
His Grace put a finger to his lips. “Shush. Remember you said no talking loudly or moving.”
“Oh.” George immediately dropped to the ground and lay still while his father bit his lip to stop himself from grinning. Letty had no such qualms. She let herself grin from ear to ear.
“Come George, I see another butterfly! Let’s move closer very stealthily and then we can draw it.” She flattened herself on the ground so that she and George could crawl forwards as slow as sloths before coming to a stop a few inches from the flower.
“Let’s draw quickly before it flies off,” Letty whispered and they began to make shapes on the paper. Even though she had no idea what she was doing, Letty was enjoying herself. A shadow fell over her drawing and she looked up to see the Duke peering down critically.
“That doesn’t look like any butterflyI’veever seen.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I suppose you can do better.”
Immediately he handed her his paper in which the butterfly was meticulously drawn and shaded in. The drawing was so good, in fact, that it gave the impression that the butterfly might hop off the page at any minute and fly away. She quickly folded her own sheet of paper and got to her feet.
“Well then, Mrs. Haversham, what’s next?”
George raised a hand. “I haven’t finished.”
“Oh, yes, George.”
I quite forgot why we were drawing the bloody thing in the first place.
She peered down at George’s drawing, hoping it was as bad as hers but found that the son had inherited his father’s talent. His picture was quite good. Letty sighed inwardly. She truly hated to be shown up, especially by a couple of boys.
“Will we be having some of your delicious bread with our tea?”
The change of subject took her by surprise and she turned back to the Duke. “I suppose it’s possible. I’m not the one who packed the picnic basket so I do not know.”
“Indeed. Well, I must concede that as a baker, you are excellent,” he said magnanimously.
“Only as a baker?”
“Yes.”
Letty laughed. “Well, at least you’re honest.”
The Duke turned to face her. “Are you?” he whispered.
She blinked at him slowly, as he stared into her eyes. “Just what, or who exactly, do youthinkI am?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. But I know you are more than you say you are.” He grabbed her hands, spread out her fingers and stared down into her palm. “These are not the hands of a peasant.” He pressed the middle of her palm. “So soft, well-tended,” he whispered.
Letty sighed inwardly. This man truly was too observant for his own good.
