“An argument about nothing? Enough with that routine, Daffy.” He pushed away from the table and returned his cup to the buffet. “But you don’t have to tell me. I’m going up to Pontus Lake.” He paused by the door. Did he ask? Seemed stupid to go to the lake alone and leave herherealone. But there were boundaries. On the other hand, she’d just declared their friendship. “Are you meeting Thomas today?”
She glanced over at him. “They all went home. Only came up for the day. Work and family obligations.”
“Even Thomas?”
“Ella texted his car was the first to pull out this morning.”
“Then would you like to go to the lake?”
She hesitated, finishing her scone. “Pontus?”
“Pontus.”
“I’ve only been twice but I love that place.” Daffy rummaged through a cupboard and produced a portable tote. “We’ll need snacks.”
She wrapped several scones in a napkin and dropped them in the canvas bag, then retrieved two bottles of water.
“I was feeling a bit out of sorts, wondering what to do with my day off. Even considered working. But this is better. How will we get there? Don’t say horses. I don’t ride. Not well, anyway.”
“We’ll take one of the carts. Best get our coats. The snow is melting, but the air is still like ice.”
Fifteen minutes later he met her at their secret stairwell, remembering halfway down he didn’t tell Hemstead. Before he started the cart, he shot the burly protection officer a text.
Visiting Pontus. No need to tag along, chap. Back soon.
Chapter Seventeen
Daffy
“It’s so beautiful here.” Daffy snapped a picture of the serene Pontus Lake as it reflected the noon sunlight. She reclined against the stack of rocks smoothed by time and, for a moment, almost believed she was more than an ordinary girl.
From this vantage point, the castle grounds were clear with their rolling hills, rows of trees, patches of flower gardens with Hadsby, a stone fortress, rising above it all, keeping watch.
“Why didn’t the queen tear down the eastern portico?” Daffy looked toward the tip of the column, shading her eyes with her hand. “What’s it for?” The concrete structure with Greek columns was from the Middle Ages, maybe once used for plays or minstrels.
Next to her, Gus stretched out, eyes closed. “I’m not sure. Mum keeps threatening a family portrait there. But it was a forward lookout in the day. Even the ruins are historical really.”
“A family portrait would be lovely there. At the right angle, everyone would seem to be walking on clouds.”
“Maybe.” Gus locked his hands behind his head and stretched out his long legs. He wore hiking boots with his jeans and faux-fur lined leather jacket. Every once in a while, he’d rake back his loose hair, only to have the wind blow it forward again.
Daffy watched the hair battle for a moment, lost in his presence, in everything that was Prince Augustus. Burnished highlights lit his hair, and his newly trimmed beard accentuated his strong jaw and firm chin. By the construct of his face and body, he was built to take a punch or two. Even emotional ones.
He was the poster boy for the classic Prince Charming. Maybe that’s why he tried so hard at love. He was supposed to win.
“You’re stronger than you know, Gus.”
He shifted his eyes toward her while remaining in repose. “Are we resorting to clichés now?”
“I’m sorry if truths become clichés, but you’re not weak. You’re not a reject or—”
“There’s a new word to add to my self-talk. Reject.”
“Only if you add the wordnotin front of it.” Daffy faced the water, savoring the breeze. “You know what I’m trying to say.”
He patted her foot. “I know. Thank you. I’ll bear it in mind.”
“I guess it’s none of my business.”
