“You once told me you were not a romantic,” he said. “Are you not an adventurer either?”
“No,” she said. “My feet are firmly planted on the ground.”
“And your heart firmly pumping away in your chest,” he said, reaching out one hand to brush his knuckles lightly beneath her chin. “I am not quite sure I believe you, Miss Osbourne—on either count. But you are right, I suppose. If we are not to run away together, we had better return.”
He fell into step beside her and they proceeded on their way in a silence that soon became companionable again.
But a nameless yearning grew in her as they descended the path—a yearning perhaps to throw caution to the winds and step out of herself entirely into an unknown…
An unknown what?
Adventure?
Romance?
Neither was being offered her with any seriousness, and she would refuse even if they were. Dreams were all very well as long as one never confused them with reality.
The reality was that she was walking beside Viscount Whitleaf along the wilderness walk at Barclay Court during a lovely summer afternoon. The reality was that she was going to waltz with him tomorrow evening at her first-ever assembly. Even after that there would still be three days of her holiday left.
There was nothing whatsoever wrong with reality. Reality was very close to being perfect.
And even after those three days were over there would be Anne and Claudia waiting for her in Bath and the security of her teaching position. There would be the other teachers and the girls, including several new ones. There would be all the challenge of a new school year to prepare for. And pleasant memories of her holiday.
“A penny for your thoughts,” he said after they were down the steep part of the path and were drawing closer to the lake.
“I was realizing how many blessings I have to count,” she said.
“Were you?” He looked more closely at her. “In my experience people count blessings only when they are feeling sad.Areyou sad?”
“No,” she said. “How could I be?”
He heaved a deep sigh, which he did not immediately explain.
“It beats me,” he said after a short silence. “But I feel melancholy too.”
Mr. Dannen and Mr. Raycroft were coming across the bridge to meet them with Miss Moss, Miss Krebbs, and Miss Jane Calvert. Soon the two groups came together, and a great deal of chatter and laughter ensued.
By the time they reached the picnic side of the bridge, Mr. Dannen had taken Susanna on his arm, and Viscount Whitleaf had offered one of his to Miss Krebbs and the other to Miss Jane Calvert. Mr. Raycroft was walking beside them.
The viscount was telling them that he had thought it was the late afternoon sunlight that was dazzling his eyes at the center of the bridge until he realized that it was their presence there that had been doing it.
The rogue!
But of course they were not taken in by such flatteries for a single moment. The tone of their laughter told Susanna that.
He was being kind to them, bringing happiness and gaiety to their day.
He had also donned a mask of frivolity. Or maybe it was not a mask at all. Maybe he had a gift for spreading joy. And yet he had said just moments ago that he felt melancholy. Could he feel both?
Yes, perhaps so.Shewas feeling both. She was living through one of the most joyful afternoons of her entire life. And yet…
And yet soon they would go separately back into their own very separate universes.
8
The mood of slight melancholy that had oppressed Susanna afterthe picnic had disappeared without a trace by the time she arrived with Frances and the Earl of Edgecombe at the assembly rooms above the village inn the following evening.
She doubted she had ever been more excited in her life, though she tried very hard not to show it—without a great deal of success, it seemed.
