She could remember sitting up there once while Christopher stood before her, one hand resting on the stones either side of her, his face on a level with hers. When he hadstarted kissing her, she wrapped her arms around his neck.And she ended up shrieking while he laughed into her ear.He bent her backward so that she was suspended over thewater, only her hold of his neck and his of her waistbetween her and certain disaster.
And they had walked often in the woods during that autumn, their arms around each other’s waist, marveling atthe incredible beauty of the trees, their footsteps hushed bythe still-soft leaves underfoot. They had talked and talked,planning and dreaming of a future that was not to be. Theygrew closer together in those months so that at last itseemed that there were no barriers left between them.They laughed a great deal, too, though she could no longerremember what had been so amusing.
They had become physically more familiar with each other during that time, too. They had always walked closeto each other when there was no one else nearby, and theyhad kissed frequently. These woods, where they werewalking now, the chatter loud and gay, had been theperfect setting for stolen embraces. Not only kisses. Hehad frequently explored her back and her breasts while hekissed her; she had often let her hands roam over themuscles of his back and shoulders and chest. And shegradually came to share his urgency, that heat of desirewhich had always finally driven them apart, smiling ruefully at each other.
Could this be the same place? And could that man ahead of her, the one bending his head with a smile to hear whatHarriet was saying, be the man with whom she had walkedand shared those confidences and those intimacies? Rebecca was conscious of a dull ache inside, which she couldnot disguise even by persisting in the conversation withMr. Carver.
She was glad at least that it was not autumn.
Chapter 6
Harriet was taken to task as soon as the group of six returned to the rest of the picnickers—by Julian.
“Really, Harriet,” he said, leaping to his feet as soon as he saw her approach and steering her by the elbow awayfrom the others, “do you have windmills in your head?What was the point of that ridiculous exhibition you wereputting on at the bridge?”
“I was walking across the wall,” she said, staring at him haughtily and jerking her arm away from him, “if it isany of your business, Julian. Anyway, you have done it ahundred times yourself. I have seen you.”
“When I was twelve years old and younger and knew no better,” he said. “Really, Harriet, I thought you hadmore sense.”
“You are behaving just like a mother hen!” she snapped, striding ahead of him to the river-bank, where their quarrelcould be a little more private. “Thank you kindly, Julian,but I do not need you to tell me what I should or shouldnot do.”
“I suppose it is all done for Christopher’s benefit,” he said scornfully.
Harriet glared at him, snapping open her parasol and twirling it behind her head. “And what is that supposed tomean?” she asked.
“You are showing off, Harriet,” Julian said sullenly.“Don’t think I have not noticed that you have set your cap at him.”
“Well!” she exclaimed. “You sound like a jealous lover, Julian. What if I do enjoy your brother’s company?He at least is fun to be with. He admired my courageearlier.”
“I doubt it,” Julian said, his face contemptuous. “He probably was playing the gentleman. I wouldn’t doubt thathe really considers you to be a silly chit.”
“Well!” Harriet said again. “At least I know where I stand with you, Julian Sinclair. And you have been declaring undying love for me for the last two years.” She liftedher chin and turned back to the group of people seated onthe blankets.
“I do care,” Julian said, looking miserable now. “I just hate to see you make a cake of yourself, Harriet, that isall.”
She tossed her head but did not deign to reply. She strode across to sit beside her father. There she receivedanother scold.
Rebecca was talking to Mrs. Sinclair. She had been planning to join Philip but changed destination when sherealized that Christopher had the same idea. The two mennow appeared to be in earnest conversation.
“And when are you planning to set the date of your wedding, Miss Shaw?” Mrs. Sinclair asked. “Mr. Sinclairand I have been expecting it all summer, but the best ofthe season is already past.”
Rebecca smiled. “We still have not set a date, ma’am,” she said.
“It is such a long time since there was a wedding of any note in the church,” Mrs. Sinclair said with a sigh. “Itwould be such a treat to have another. We were verydisappointed, you know, when Lord Holmes decided tomarry his lady in London before bringing her home.”
“You can be sure, ma’am,” Rebecca said reassuringly, “that when we do set the date, you will be among the firstto receive an invitation.”
“Such a very proper young man,” Mrs. Sinclair said, looking across at Philip with an affectionate smile. “Hewill make you a good husband, Miss Shaw. He is very likeyour poor dear papa except that he is perhaps a trifle moreserious. Perhaps he will soften somewhat under yourinfluence.”
Rebecca too looked across at her betrothed. Hewasvery serious. She rarely saw him smile. She could not imaginewhat he found to talk about so earnestly with Christopher.She wondered what Mrs. Sinclair’s thoughts were aboutthe past. Everyone had known that she and Christopherwere seeing each other. Surely they must have suspectedthat the relationship was a serious one. Did they everwonder what had happened? Of course, perhaps Christopher had explained the situation to them. Perhaps theyknew more than she did.
Philip looked up at her while she was still staring in his direction. He beckoned and called to her above the hubbubof voices. Rebecca got reluctantly to her feet and movedover to where he sat with Christopher. Both men got totheir feet as if they were in a formal drawing room ratherthan outdoors at a picnic.
“I have been telling Mr. Sinclair about the school,” Philip explained to her as they all sat down on the blanket.
Rebecca’s eyes strayed to Christopher’s chin. “Oh?” she said.
“I like the sound of what you have been doing there, Miss Shaw,” Christopher said. “It is quite a brave venture.”
