‘How about a stick?’ she suggested. She searched around for a possibility. But as usual, the gardeners had done such a good job of clearing the brush and there was none to be had.
Then, as he watched, she spied a nearby apple tree. Despite her skirts, she managed to clamber high enough up the trunk to grab a fruit off one of the lower branches. She held it out to show him. ‘You mustn’t eat this, for it is far too green. It will give you a bellyache. But you are trained as a hunter, are you not? I am sure your mouth is so gentle that you will not even leave a mark.’
The dog sat at her feet, staring at her face intently as if trying to comprehend this torrent of unfamiliar words.
She tossed the apple to him. ‘Catch.’
It bounced off his nose, earning her an indignant look that asked why, if she claimed to love him, she had suddenly taken to throwing fruit.
‘You are supposed to catch it,’ she said patiently. ‘Then give it to me and I will toss it again.’
‘You need to give him a better reason than that.’ Fred could not help interrupting, if only to save the dignity of his dog.
‘He needs a reason to play?’ she said, shaking her head in amazement. Perhaps it was amazing to her. It sometimes seemed that his new wife was not so much an ordinary woman, but an elemental spirit of joy. Now, she was staring not at the dog, but at him. ‘What a sad life he must have led, before I arrived.’
‘He did well enough,’ Fred replied, suddenly unsure.
‘Did he really?’ That steady gaze was like the touch of a surgeon, probing gently at an old wound.
‘He was satisfied with order, and quiet, and following the commands that were given to him,’ Fred said, wondering why that sounded like such cold comfort.
‘But was he happy?’ she insisted.
He had been as happy as a dog could expect to be. They had both been. Comfort came with predictability and reliability. The distance between unfettered joy and profound regret was too close to risk.
But Georgiana had been the very opposite of such staid emotions. She was like a Russian doll, a nested series of surprises, each more pleasant than the last. A month ago, he’d had no reason to be dissatisfied with his life. But it paled in comparison to what he felt today, when he looked at the woman beside him. ‘He was content,’ he admitted at last, looking away from her to the dog at their feet. ‘But he was not happy. He did not know that there could be another way.’
‘Then it is good that I came here,’ she said. ‘For I would wish him to be as happy as I am, now that I am with you.’
For some reason, her happiness seemed to increase his own. His heart ached in his chest like an unused muscle forced to stretch after years without use. To hide his confusion, he scooped the apple from the ground and sent it bouncing into the field. Then he looked at the dog and said, ‘Fetch.’
Just as he had been trained to do, the dog gave one quick wag of his tail and was off into the grass, searching for his prize. In only a few moments, he was back, the apple held carefully in his mouth. He dropped it at the feet of his master and sat, patiently, waiting for a response.
‘Good boy.’ Georgiana smiled at the dog, patting him. Then she cast a sidelong look up at Fred that hinted there might be rewards for him as well.
He looked back to Sargent, blushing. ‘Again?’
There was another wag of the tail.
He handed the apple to Georgiana, prepared to teach her how to throw.
She wound up and let loose with a pitch worthy of a world-class bowler. ‘Fetch, Sargent.’
He laughed, amazed by her once more. ‘You have played cricket.’
‘I suppose it is too late to deny it,’ she said, straightening her skirts.
‘I don’t know why I am surprised,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Who taught you?’
‘The stable boys on my father’s land,’ she said, as unrepentant as ever.
‘And I suppose they also taught you to climb trees,’ he said.
‘And play drumhead,’ she agreed. ‘My father was the one that taught me to handle a carriage. Because it was more ladylike than riding astride.’
‘There were no little girls in the household?’ he asked.
‘Not a one. Until Marietta arrived, I was free of feminine influence and happy to be so.’
