“That would be telling.” He bit into the piece of marzipan. “Is it Switzerland?”
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly means I’m not even close.” He pondered. “Venice.”
“No. Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious, that’s all. Keep your secret then, and I’ll keep mine.” He shrugged. “Thing is, I’ll know about yours when you get back from wherever anyway, but you’ll always be left wondering about mine.”
Louisa made a face. “Oh, very well, just as long as you keep it to yourself.”
“Of course.” He drew an invisible cross over his heart. “I don’t have to ask if you’ll keep mine, because I know you will. Ask me why.”
Louisa laughed. “Why?”
“Because you wouldn’t dare tell it to anyone else.”
“Is it that bad?” Louisa glanced about making sure no one was in earshot. “All right, if you must know, we’re going to the Lake District.”
“The Lake District.” Frowning, Josiah licked his sugary fingers. “I mean, it’s a nice enough area and all, but I thought he’d be whisking you away somewhere a little more exotic than that.”
Secretly, Louisa had thought so too. Or, at least, hoped so. “I don’t think he likes to leave his business for too long,” she explained. “Besides, it doesn’t really matter where we go. We’ll be together, which is what counts.”
Josiah gave her a cynical look. “Bollocks,” he said. “You hoped for gondolas and thePiazza San Marco, not cart tracks and sheep. I can see it written all over your face.”
“Oh, be quiet,” Louisa said, without malice. “And it’s not all cart tracks and sheep. Actually, we’re going for a ride onThe Lady of the Lake steamer. She’s just been launched on Windermere and is supposed to be quite the thing. Right. I’ve told you mine, now you tell me yours.”
“I’ll begin by giving you a clue.” He lifted his gaze. “Ceilings.”
Louisa looked up as well. “Ceilings.”
“Yes. I paint them.” He winked. “Under a pseudonym.”
She blinked. “And that’s your secret?”
He sighed. “Oh, come on, Lou. You’re not normally this obtuse.”
“What do you mean? What am I missing?”
“The fact that I use a pseudonym.” He nibbled on a strawberry. “Why would I need to do that, do you think?”
She cocked her head, pondering. “Um, I suppose because you don’t want people to know your real name?”
“Exactly.”
“The reason being?”
He huffed. “Ye gods. All this marriage nonsense has obviously scrambled your brains. All right, one final clue.” He popped the remainder of the strawberry in his mouth and winked again. “Richmond.”
It took a moment or two, and then understanding hit Louisa with only a little less force than a cannonball. A hand flew to her mouth, stifling a squeak. “Oh, my heavens, Josiah, that wasn’t you. Was it? You didn’t.Didyou?”
“Sshhh!” Grinning, he glanced about. “What did you think of it?”
Heat travelled up Louisa’s throat. “Please tell me you’re making this up.”
“I’m not making it up. As a matter of fact, I’m very proud of the work. I’ve been studying life drawing and nude art for the past while. I thought you knew that.”
“But these people weren’t justnude, Josiah,” she whispered. “They were…occupied.”
