“I need help supervising the children,” he heard himself say.
Her shoulders relax as she relented. Finally. “Very well, sir,” she said but kept her eyes averted.
He wondered why.
Philip threwsidelong glances at her as they walked down the path to the lake. Her face was shaded by the straw bonnet, and he couldn’t see her expression.
“When you were a child, what was your favourite past time?” Philip asked the first thing that popped into his mind, just to get her to speak.
She looked up, startled. “Favourite past time?”
“Yes. You know. Like horse riding, maybe? Swimming?” He opened the gate that led over the meadow. The lake was beyond.
“Fun,” she said slowly. “There was not fun when I was little. The word wasn’t uttered at all. I read, played piano, and embroidered. The height of the day’s excitement was a walk in the park.”
Philip pulled a face. “So you never fished in a brook? Climbed an apple tree? Built a treehouse? Ran in the streets with a gang of other children?”
Arabella looked at him with big eyes and shook her head. “I grew up alone. Chaperoned by maids. My parents died early. One of my brothers as well.” She shrugged. “I was raised by my older brother and my grandmother. There wasn’t much time for fun.”
“Hm. Sounds like you didn’t have a very thrilling childhood. You also seem to have been an extraordinary obedient child.” He felt sorry for her.
“I’m very dull, am I not?” She sounded wistful. She thought for one moment, then her face brightened. “But I did run away, once. It was a rainy day, and I was keen on reading a book that was forbidden.”
“Oho, a forbidden book! What was it?”
“It was a series of love poems.” Arabella blushed. “My governess had expressly forbidden me to read them. Of course I had to read them.”
“Aha, so there is hope. She disobeyed the governess! The skies shook and the world ended at such blatant disobedience?”
“Very nearly so. I snuck up into the attic, made myself a hideaway under a blanket, and read. The entire house was in a frenzy searching for me. I emerged four hours later, dusty, starving, and rather happy.” She grinned at him. “I was punished severely. I had to sit in the schoolroom and copy the entireBlessings of Moralityin one afternoon. It was dreadfully dull.”
“May I ask what kind of forbidden work you read?”
“Lord Byron.”
“Oho! The mad, bad, dangerous to know fellow?”
“Oh, yes. I adore Byron. Have you read his works?”
“No. I only read numbers. Tell me about it. What are your favourite lines?”
“She walks in beauty, like the night/ of cloudless climes and starry skies…”
He watched her, transfixed. Her face softened; a light glow entered her eyes. “It is like I can see her. Feel her, right there with him.”
“You are right,” Philip had difficulty tearing his eyes away from her face. An inner light lit up her eyes. She was beautiful. “You are not only musical, but you also have a deep sense for beauty.”
“You have been on the continent, haven’t you?”
Philip didn’t reply for one moment. Then he threw the leaf away that he’d pulled from a tree. “Hm. Yes.”
“Where?”
“Portugal. Spain. Belgium.”
“What was it like at the peninsula? I mean, not the war. War must be the same everywhere. But the countries. Was Spain as hot as they say it is? Does the air flicker in the summer heat?”
He thought for one moment.
