The next move was up to Giles.
When the hackney deposited them at a far less trafficked garden than Hyde Park, Giles picked up the basket with one hand and offered the other to Felicity.
She curled her fingers about his elbow and smiled. “Where to?”
“I’ll show you.” He escorted her deep along a rarely travelled footpath that led to one of his favorite little clearings.
He loved St. James’s Park. His family had visited frequently when Giles was a child, and even now that he was the only one who still wandered through nature, he still came sometimes to recapture the feeling of doing absolutely nothing at all. Just lying on his back, eyes closed, rose-scented breeze rustling his hair, warm sunlight on his face, taking a moment to enjoy nature.
Felicity sent a worried gaze up at the sky. “I hope it doesn’t rain.”
“It won’t,” he replied.
This morning’s storm clouds were off on the horizon. The weather should remain clear for their picnic.
She sent him a teasing look. “Are you the master of London weather, as well?”
“I’m the master of not caring two figs about the rain,” he answered. “I didn’t come here for the weather. I came for the company. And the kisses.”
Her cheeks flushed prettily, and she gave him a soft kiss before swinging her gaze back to the gorgeous wooded path widening before them.
Giles had come to this special spot thousands of times with his family or on his own, but he had never brought a woman before. He watched Felicity from the corner of his eye as they stepped into the clearing.
Her eyes lit with wonder and she dropped her hand from his arm to clasp her fingers to her chest.
“This is beautiful!” She flung her arms wide and spun around, then turned to face him. “How did you find this?”
“This is where my father brought my mother when they started courting.” Giles held a finger to his lips as if imparting a secret. “According to legend, nothing more scandalous occurred than a couple of chaste kisses.”
“Good God.” Felicity gasped in faux shock. “Anything but chaste kisses!”
He nodded gravely. “Unchecked licentiousness at its worst. Oh, and he did propose marriage here. So there isthatprecedent.”
He expected Felicity to recoil at the implication that a courtship was underway. Instead, her gaze softened.
“How did he know she would say yes?”
“He didn’t.” Giles set the basket in a shady nook near some wildflowers. “That’s why he brought her. He hoped surrounding her with beauty would give him an advantage.”
“Did it?”
“Definitely. Over the course of a summer, he procured two chaste kisses and one love of a lifetime. An unquestionable win.” Giles spread a soft woolen blanket over the green spring grass and motioned for Felicity to join him.
She settled herself beside him. “How long have they been married?”
“Thirty-five years next month.” He pulled cheese and fruit from the basket. With his folding pen knife, he began slicing bite-sized pieces onto a little platter.
“That’s a long time,” she said wistfully.
“To be married?”
“To have one’s parents.”
He looked up at her, his gut twisting in sympathy. He’d meant the story to be a romantic one; not a boast about what he had, and she did not.
“I know I’m fortunate,” he said quietly. “I’m grateful every single day. I’m sorry your parents are no longer with you.”
“I don’t remember them,” she admitted after a long moment. “I try, but it’s just… All I ever had was Cole. There was no time to sit around feeling sorry for ourselves.”
