“Yes, a small one in the garden only,” she said, the plan taking shape as she spoke.
“You’ll come ?” she asked.
Alexander took a moment to respond, and her heart thumped loudly in her chest each second that she waited for his answer.
“Very well, then. I shall see you there.”
“Excellent,” she said, as evenly as she could manage. “It’ll be nothing elaborate—just some sandwiches, a few sweet things, perhaps a lemonade or two. Simple.”
“I have no great objections to sandwiches,” Alexander replied, his mouth twitching into something dangerously close to a smile.
Was that a joke? Penelope tilted her head, half-amused.
“You’re in a strange mood this morning.”
“Strange?” He raised an eyebrow.
“You’re almost... pleasant.”
“I am glad you think so highly of me,” he muttered sarcastically .
“Oh, I’ve not even begun,” she replied. She was still not used to this side of him—this version of Alexander that teased and watched her a moment too long. It made it difficult to remember that this marriage was supposed to be one of convenience.
Not curiosity. Certainly not... whatever this was. She took a careful sip of her tea to steady herself.
“When were you thinking of having this picnic?” Alexander asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon, perhaps?” she suggested. “If the weather holds.”
He gave a brief nod. “That can be arranged.”
Penelope blinked. “You mean, you’ll truly come?”
“I said I would, didn’t I?” His tone was matter-of-fact. Penelope, however, could hardly picture him there.
“Well,” she said, “I’m glad.”
As she turned to leave the breakfast room, she paused near the threshold. “Thank you,” she said, without quite turning to face him.
“For what?”
“For agreeing to come. It means more to Odette than she’ll likely ever admit.”
“I suspect it means more to you, too.”
Penelope did not have a straight response to that. She could only blush, because he was right. Perhaps it did mean something to her.
CHAPTER 7
“Ido not care for picnics.”
Odette’s voice was flat, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Penelope had invited her to her chambers to extend an invitation, but the young girl seemed to have made up her mind already.
Nancy offered a small smile. “But Lady Odette, it’s such a fine day. There’ll be sunshine, and a little lemon cake that is especially prepared…”
“I do not care for lemon cakes.”, Odette cut in rudely.
Penelope noticed the subtle manner in which Nancy flinched from the rebuke. She pursed her lips together.
